A True Slytherin
by Savile
Summary: There's not a single witch or wizard who went bad that wasn't in Slytherin… well at least according to Hagrid. A chance meeting with Professor Slughorn changes Harry's outlook just in time for the sorting.
1. Year I: The Order of the Serpent

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any associates properties or ideas. I am not now, have not in the past, and will not for the foreseeable future receive compensation for writing fanfiction.

Summary: There's not a single witch or wizard who went bad that wasn't in Slytherin… well at least according to Hagrid. A chance meeting with Professor Slughorn changes Harry's outlook just in time for the sorting.

**EDIT: **This is an edited version of the original chapter. Changes were made to keep Harry's earlier characterizations more in line with what I've written later in the series. I've also removed a couple of the more cringe worthy moments. And subsittuted the rather bland scene breaks with something more interesting. A Certain amount of credit for these changes goes to my new beta Snakefang93.

**A/N** So I know I shouldn't be starting a new series with two still uncompleted, but I ran into a brick wall when it came to Power Play. When this bunny popped up I just couldn't get it out of my mind so I figured I'd try it out.

At present I plan for this fic to cover all seven years of Hogwarts. I intend to breeze through the early years at Hogwarts. PS for instance is done by the end of this chapter, and CS will probably be only one chapter too, PA will probably be two chapters and GOF will almost definitely be four or more. The more my story moves away from cannon the more I'll write.

**[Begin]**

His first time at Gringotts would always be one of those moments that Harry would remember for the rest of his life. He was rich! Well not really the Potters had been rather middle class, but he certainly wasn't poor any longer. Harry never realized just how much he resented wearing Dudley's old clothes, until the second he realized that he would never have put on his cousin's hand-me-downs ever again . There was however one other instance that happened that day that irrevocably changed Harry's life, though he would never truly realize it.

"Hagrid! I say this is a surprise," called a plump old bald man as Harry and Hagrid walked out of Gringotts.

"Professor Slughorn sir, mighty good to see yeh." Hagrid sounded confused, Harry couldn't understand why exactly.

'It's nice to see you still remember me fondly," Slughorn said cheerfully. "I was afraid you wouldn't, given the circumstances the last time we met." Harry couldn't help but notice that as Slughorn talked to Hagrid his eyes kept glancing at Harry. He wasn't nearly as obvious as the other wizards had been, but he was still clearly excited to see the Boy-Who-Lived.

"Oh, weren't a problem Professor, yeh didn't 'ave a lot to do with that business," Hagrid replied.

"Still hardly pleasant, although I hear you haven't done too badly for yourself since?"

"No sir," Hagrid said proudly. "Professor Dumbledore did right by me sir, can't complain about my life at all, not one bit. S'matter of fact yeh could say he's trusting me with a rather lot of important things these days." The giant noticeably patted his pocket, where Harry had seen him put the package from Vault 713. "I was just at Gringotts picking up a little something on his behalf."

"My, my, he really does trust you nowadays," Slughorn said pleasantly. "You should be proud, Hagrid, Albus was always a fine judge of character and he wouldn't trust you with his vault if he didn't think highly of you."

Harry had never seen a man as large as Hagrid preen before and he never wanted to see it ever again. There was no doubt that Slughorn knew all the right buttons to push.

"If you don't mind me asking Hagrid, what was it that Albus sent you to Gringotts for?"

"Sorry Professor, that's between Albus Dumbledore and Nicholas Flamel!" Hagrid said proudly.

Slughorn's eyebrows immediately jumped at the name, but he must have decided to let the matter rest as he said "well say no more my dear man, in any case I was rather more interested in your young companion here."

"Right yeh are Professor, say hi to Harry Potter, Harry this Professor Slughorn me old potions teacher."

"It's a pleasure to meet you sir," Harry said politely.

"No Mr. Potter the pleasure is all mine… My word you look like your father, and you have her eyes," there was a note of fondness in Slughorn's voice. Eventually Harry would grow tired of that phrase repeated over and over again by seemingly everyone over the age of 35, but at the time it was still fresh and he was still eager to hear of his parents.

"You knew my parents sir?"

"Oh yes," Slughorn said smiling fondly. "I confess that I didn't know your father very well, but your mother… They say that teachers shouldn't have favorites, but she was one of my mine. Oh I could go on for days, but I fear you two are probably busy," Slughorn looked very downcast at the prospect of leaving Harry.

"Yeh know Professor," Hagrid ventured cautiously, "I think I need to sit down for a bit. It's those ruddy Gringotts carts, they do horrible things to me stomach. Normally wouldn't ask but seeing how yer a friend of Professor Dumbledore and all… Yeh could take Harry 'round the shops and get his stuff for school if yeh got the time?"  
>"I'd be delighted to!" Professor Slughorn answered with a large grin. Harry had the distinct impression that the man had planned this, though the chance to hear about his parents made Harry eager to go with him anyways.<p>

"Come on now, Mr. Potter, or do you prefer Harry?" Slughorn asked cheerfully.

"Harry's fine sir."

"Excellent, now what's first on your list? Robes I see? Well everyone usually swears by Madame Malkin's but Twilfit of Twilfit and Tattings is an old student of mine and he always makes sure to give me the good stuff." Slughorn gave Harry a conspiratorial little wink as he brought up his old student, as if to let Harry in on some sort of big secret.

"You said you knew my mother sir?" Harry asked hopefully. "I was wondering if you could tell me a bit about her?"

"I'd be delighted to." Slughorn paused to collect his thoughts. "She was a vivacious charming girl, quite pleasant to be around; she had a way of lighting up a room. She was a dab hand at potions too, as I recall. She and Severus always used to try and outdo each other, never let it get in the way of their friendship though… well at least not at first..."

"Severus?"

"Oh yes, I forget myself sometimes Harry. You of course haven't met Severus Snape, he's your potions professor, now that I've retired."

"Another friend of my mother's then?"

"Hmpff, you'll be hard put to find someone who wasn't a friend of your mother's. I always used to joke that she should be in Slytherin, my old house, cheeky answers I'd get back too."

"House sir?"

"Ah yes, raised by muggles, you won't know much about Hogwarts then?"

"No sir."

"Well there are four houses which you can live in. There's Slytherin, my alma mater, we're said to be the most ambitious of the lot. Then there's Ravenclaw, they're the smart ones. Hufflepuff, they value hard work. Your mother and father were Gryffindors, where the brave at heart dwell."

"How is the sorting done exactly?" Harry asked curiously.

"That my dear boy would be telling," Slughorn said with a friendly smile. "The sorting ceremony is a very well-kept secret, it's something of a tradition you see."

Harry was beginning to enjoy his time with the aging Professor; it helped that Slughorn was one of the first adults to genuinely pay attention to Harry. That is if you don't count Petunia's glares, and those rather pushy wizards and witches back in the Leaky Cauldron. It also helped that Slughorn was a genuinely interesting man who was willing, even eager, to indulge his questions.

Harry got the distinct impression that he wasn't the only one to have fallen for Slughorn's charm. As they walked down the street the Professor was constantly being recognized. "That's Adrian, Class of '78, he's a photographer for the Daily Prophet… I expected so much better out of him. Oh that's Barnabas Quickhop, Minister for Magical Transportation, Class of '67." It went on like this all the way down Diagon Alley, Harry felt like his head was about to burst trying to remember all of the people the Professor had pointed out by the time they made it to the robe shop.

Harry had only intended to buy school robes, but Slughorn insisted that he be outfitted with a complete wizard wardrobe.

"You're a hero Harry and you must look the part!"

Harry had wanted to protest that he was 'just Harry,' but it felt rather nice to be fawned over for once in his life. Besides he reasoned after years of wearing Dudley's old boxers he deserved to treat himself right?

After Twilfit and Tattings Slughorn escorted Harry to the Apothecary, where the Professor was greeted as a long lost friend.

"It probably has something to do with me introducing the owner to his wife," Slughorn told Harry as they were leaving.

There next stop was the bookstore, where the Professor insisted that Harry buy a veritable library on top of his normal schoolbooks.

"It never hurts to be well read my boy, and this book has some rather good insights to basic potion making. I really don't know why Severus insists on teaching you from that outdated piece of junk, Belby put out."

For his part Harry was thankful that Slughorn had no qualms about letting him buy a book on curses.

"It's a bit above your level, but it never hurts to be prepared" the Professor said when Harry had suggested it.

Slughorn also made a point of buying Harry a beautiful white owl, so long as Harry promised to write him. Harry who had neither received a true gift in his life nor had someone to write too eagerly agreed.

Finally it came to the purchase that Harry had been truly looking forward to, his wand. Ollivander's Shop was rather run down and dusty in comparison to the other stores in Diagon Alley. Harry said as much to Professor Slughorn.

"Hmpff, remember Harry appearances can be deceiving there's not a better wandmaker in the whole of Europe then Mr. Ollivander."

"I'm glad you think so," Ollivander said appearing right behind Slughorn, who jumped and let out a startled squeal.

"Horace Slughorn, 9 inches made of Yew, rather sturdy good for transfiguration as I recall?"

"Hmpff, that's correct," the Professor answered as he straightened his robe and tried his best to look like he hadn't just made a sound more suited to a schoolgirl then a potions master. An Hour later Harry emerged from the store with an 11 inch phoenix feather wand and the distinct urge to never, ever go back to Ollivander's. The man was plain creepy.

Hagrid met the pair at the Leaky Cauldron and Slughorn begged his leave. He made Harry promise to write him one last time he disappeared with a small pop.

"That was right odd him coming up to us like that," Hagrid said as they left the Leaky Cauldron. "Never did have much to do with old Horace Slughorn before."

"He seemed nice." Harry didn't exactly want the first friend he ever made, Hagrid, disliking the second friend he ever made, Slughorn.

"The Professor's a right charmer when he feels like it, just never tried to charm me. Wouldn't normally have let yeh leave me sight, but he was friends with Professor Dumbledore back in the day, and any friend of Albus Dumbledore is a friend of mine."

_**("There's not a witch or wizard who went dark that wasn't in Slytherin,"- Ron Weasley)**_

"The Sorting Ceremony's about to start now form a line," Professor McGonagall called. Harry queued up next to Ron Weasley a friend he had made on the train. "Not Slytherin, not Slytherin, also not Hufflepuff, but definitely not Slytherin," the redhead kept muttering under his breath to Harry's amusement.

Harry gaped in awe as the first years followed McGonagall into the Great Hall, he had never imagined such a strange yet pleasant place. It was lit by thousands of candles that were floating in midair over four long tables, where the rest of the Hogwarts population was sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets, far richer than anything Harry had seen in the muggle world. Even the Queen didn't eat off of gold plates!

Harry's heart started to beat quicker and his legs began to feel like Rubber as he noticed that nearly every eye in the student body was pointed towards him.

"That's Harry Potter!" one person sitting at the Ravenclaw Table said eagerly.

"I always thought he would be taller," a Gryffindor said in disappointment.

"Oh he's cute," whispered an older Hufflepuff girl. Harry blushed even more at the last comment. Harry quickly looked away from the girl which only seemed to make her giggle.

It was then that Harry noticed that everyone in the hall who wasn't staring at him was looking at a rather beat up looking hat. For a few seconds there was silence… Then a rip formed near the brim and the hat began to sing.

"Oh you may not think I'm pretty, but don't judge on what you see I'll eat myself if you can find a smarter hat then me."

For his part Harry stared in open mouth shock as the hat continued its badly rhymed, but informative song.

"So put me on! Don't be afraid! And don't get in a flap! You're in safe hands (though I have none). For I am a Thinking Cap!"

As the Hall erupted in applause Harry couldn't decide whether to be impressed that magic had created a seemingly sentient hat or horrified that said hat was being used primarily for singing.

"Abbot, Hannah," Called Professor McGonagall.

"Hufflepuff!" the Hat cried out after a second of deliveration.

"Bones Susan."

"Hufflepuff!"

"Boot, Terry!"

"Ravenclaw!" And so the sorting went slowly but surely the amount of unsorted first years dwindled. A rather bushy haired girl who Harry found annoying was sorted into Gryffindor as was Ron.

"Potter, Harry," McGonagall called at last.

The last thing Harry saw before the hat closed over his eyes was a hall full of people staring at him, it was enough to make his cheeks even redder. Then he was looking at the inside of a dark hat. He waited.

"Hmm," came a small whisper. "Difficult, very difficult. Plenty of courage, there's no denying that. Not a bad mind to go along with it either. Loyalty to make Helga proud, and talent oh yes, so much talent… so where should I put you?"

"Not Slytherin," Harry muttered under his breath.

"Not Slytherin, eh?" the Hat asked curiously. "Now why would that be?"

Unbidden an image of Ron flashed to the front of his mind. "Slytherins are scum, the lot of 'em," Harry could practically here the scorn dripping from his friend's voice.

"Letting others make your choices for you Mr. Potter? Hardly something old Godric would approve of and really Mr. Weasley is steering you wrong. You have what it takes to be great, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin can help you on the way to greatness!"

Harry thought of Ron and Hagrid, and there warnings about Slytherin and he started to say "not slyth-," but then he stopped. His mind went back to Professor Slughorn. Kind, affable, popular Professor Slughorn, was he evil? Harry didn't really think so. Maybe Slytherin wasn't as bad as everyone had made it out to be.

"That's the spirit, Potter," the Sorting Hat whispered in his ear. "Any more objections? No? Then it had better be SLYTHERIN!"

The hat was removed from Harry's head and he could see again. It looked like the Gryffindors were rather disappointed but most clapped sedately; The Hufflepuffs and the Ravenclaws were likewise polite. The Slytherins however were cheering wildly, Harry felt his fears melt away. 'They wouldn't be that happy if they planned to kill me right?' he thought to himself.

As Harry was about to sit down at the Slytherin Table a tall brown haired slytherin seventh year with a Head Boy badge on walked up and shook his hand. "Terrance Higgs, Just wanted to say welcome to the Dark Side."

"There are three simple rules to living in Slytherin," Higgs said to the first years later that night in the common room. "Number one; No one cares what your last name is."

Harry grinned at that, while Malfoy just gave the Head Boy a dark look.

"Number two; I don't care what you do or who you do it to, just so long as Slytherin doesn't lose points over it. But so help me God if Slytherin loses points I'll make you wish you were dead."

The threat seemed oddly serious to Harry, especially considering that Higgs had seemed nice enough at the welcoming feast.

"And rule number three; No dueling in the Showers. That's a new rule after what happened last year…"

Slytherin was a very odd House Harry decided after his first few days. Nearly everyone above fifth year was happy to have him, and went out of their way to do him favors. People closer to his own age weren't so welcoming.

"You don't belong here Potter," Malfoy said on the first night.

"It's all about what they can get out of you," Blaise Zabini had explained when Harry brought up the oddity. "They all think you have the power to make or break their careers, after all people listen to the Boy-Who-Lived."

"What about Malfoy and Parkinson?" Harry pointed out.

"Malfoy and Parkinson are just petty imitations of their parents. They haven't had the time to develop their own views or personalities so they'll just go along with whatever they think their mommy's and daddies would do in their place."

Blaise was darker in his thoughts then any reasonable eleven year old had a right to be, Harry found it sort of disturbing. He was however the only boy below fifth year who would talk to Harry and so the two had struck up an almost friendship. Malfoy apparently hated the black boy almost as much as he hated Harry.

"My mum married his uncle," Blaise said as if that explained everything.

"He means his mum killed Draco's uncle," said a pretty young girl from Harry's other side. She had bright blue eyes and shoulder length hair that was as dark as Harry's own.

"Allegedly, Tracey, allegedly" Blaise replied deadpanned.

Tracey Davis was Harry's only other friend in Slytherin, and seemed to gravitate to Harry out of a desire to be as unslytherin as possible.

"My mum's a muggle and I think my dad's not too happy about me being around people like Blaise," she had explained to Harry once

Blaise chose to ignore that comment. Harry rather got the impression that he bought into the whole blood supremacy thing at least to some extent, though the boy had never said as much.

"Harry can I talk to you," a nervous looking Ron Weasley asked as Harry and his friends walked up to the potions classroom.

"Sure," Harry replied as he let himself be led away, to the clear annoyance of Blaise. "What did you want to talk about Ron?" he asked once they were safely out of earshot.

"Well I just wanted to say… er… well…" Ron looked flustered. "I-I said some things… that er… I um…. Look I said stuff about Slytherins and all… But I mean… Well you seemed like a good bloke, so I guess they all can't be bad."

"So you're saying you still want to be my friend?" Harry asked half amused and half relived.

"Yeah," Ron replied with a nervous smile.

Harry decided to go to bed early that night, he was tired from his first week of classes and his stomach was rather unsettled from eating Hagrid's rock cakes. He awoke sometime long after the rest of his year had gone to bed. He rolled over and reached for his glasses only to see four figures far too tall to be his roommates slipping quietly through the door.

"Lumos," Harry said holding his wand aloft. The light showed six tall figures in dark cloaks and bone white masks staring back at him. He didn't have time to panic before a flash of red sent him into unconsciousness.

Harry awoke with a start he was in a dark dank room somewhere, probably in the dungeons. Around him his roommates huddled in terror, as the figures he had seen in the dorm hovered over them menacingly.

"We are the Fraternal Order of the Serpent," said an intimidating voice that Harry felt was familiar but couldn't place. "Over a millennia ago Salazar Slytherin himself charged us with defending this noble house from those who would seek to destroy it."

"The hat said ye'ad the right stuff to be Slytherin. We'll see if ye' got the balls for it," said another masked figure in an Irish brogue.

"You are low. Beneath muggles and mudbloods, because they at least have the decency to stay out of our way," said one of the others.

"My father is-!"

"We know all about yer daddy, Malfoy. He raised a garl for a son, I for one will enjoy beating the man into yeh," said the Irish one.

"My father will hear about this!" Draco replied standing up. Before he could leave one of the figures shot a burst of white light at him, Draco shrieked in pain and collapsed into Goyle.

"You'll go nowhere until we give you permission Mr. Malfoy," said the first man who had spoken. Harry gathered he was the levelheaded one of the group. "As for telling your father, I couldn't care less. He was a Slytherin once too; he'll have passed our test. What will he think of a weakling son who can't?"

Harry would never know for sure whether it was the stinging hex that cowed Draco or the comment about his father but either way the boy shut up.

"And if we don't go along with this?" Blaise asked from Harry's left.

"Oh the whore's son speaks," said one of the masked ones, as he threw back his head and laughed. "Tell me, what's it like knowing your mum killed your dad 'cause he weren't man enough to satisfy her needs?"

"I'd love to satisfy her needs," one of the other captors said while making a crude gesture.

"Bastard!" Blaise tried to charge at the boy, who looked like a seventh year from his size only to be hit by a stunner.

"No I rather think that's you," one of the masked men said with a harsh laugh.

"That's enough," the level headed one said as he waved his wand to revive Blaise. "To answer your question Mr. Zabini, anyone who thinks there too good for us is no longer Slytherin and will be silenced, for the rest of their time at Hogwarts."

Harry shuddered a little bit, even after only a week in Slytherin House he knew how discipline was maintained. When a Slytherin did something truly horrific or embarrassing, the House would silence them. That is to say that no one was allowed to speak to or acknowledge that student ever again. It was brutally effective. Most of the silenced chose to leave Hogwarts rather than continue on as a friendless nobody, a rare few had even decided to jump of the Astronomy Tower.

"You will each be assigned a master, they will help you grow to be true Slytherins and in return you will follow their every command."

"If yer master be wishing yeh to run naked through the Great 'all, yeh will," said the Irish one.

"Now for your first test, gentleman," said the one Harry thought was the leader. "Get back to the common room without getting caught… If you make it your masters will find you tomorrow."

_**("I swear on the graves of my ancestors if any of you idiots get me caught I'll kill you,"- Draco Malfoy)**_

"Come with me Potter," Terrance Higgs said the next day in the common room. Harry had just enough time to share a look of trepidation with Blaise and Tracey before he was whisked off by the Seventh Year. They traveled through a doorway to the side of the common room that Harry had never paid much attention to. The door opened to reveal a long hallway with doors on either side.

"This is my private study," Higgs said opening one of the doors. "You'll get one your sixth year assuming you have four or more OWLS." The room was decorated in a rich purple, with just enough green and silver to show that it was a Slytherin's room.

"Is there a reason you needed to see me?" Harry asked nervously.

"Yes, as you've probably guess I'm your designated Master," Higgs said with a small smile. "Now as long do your part this shouldn't be all that hard. Every Slytherin for the last thousand years has done this, so I'll be rather surprised if you break under the pressure."

"How does this work sir?" Harry hadn't called Higgs sir before, but since the boy now had real power over Harry it seemed like the smart thing to do. Judging from Higgs' smile he had done the right thing.

"This is rather simple Potter, and assuming you keep your nose clean and your grades up it won't even be that hard. Basically it's my responsibility to ensure you aren't an embarrassment to Slytherin, if you get into trouble I'm expected to punish you, and if you can't keep up in your studies I'm expected to tutor you."

"That's a lot nicer then you lot made it sound last night," Harry replied.

"Well there's another side to these things," Higgs said with a smile. "In exchange for me mentoring you you're expected to be my manservant. Clean my study, fetch me tea, hold my bag during Quidditch Practice, that sort of thing."

"That still doesn't seem so bad." Harry was used to cleaning up after three Dursley's after that one wizard didn't seem like too much trouble.

"Well maybe not for you, but I think a couple of your mates won't find it so fun."

Harry thought of Malfoy picking up after someone, and chuckled a little, that would no doubt set the little ponce off.

"Also a couple of the lads are taking it a bit farther than me. Malfoy for instance will be in for a rather miserable year under O'Neal."

"Bad Blood?" Harry inquired.

"He's Irish and practically giddy at the chance to humiliate a rich Englishman's son, and for the most part that's what this whole thing is about," Higgs explained. "You get people like Malfoy coming in thinking they own the place cause of their daddies. While those of us who've been here for seven years can't just let that happen so we knock 'em down a few pegs… If you're smart perhaps you can avoid that..."

_**("Look! It's that stupid thing Longbottom's Gran sent him. I think I'll leave it somewhere for him to find… Like up a tree."-Draco Malfoy)**_

"Longbottom!" Harry called entering the Hospital wing. "I've got something for you!"

"Eep!" Neville squealed as he caught sight of Harry.

"What the devil are you eeping for?" Harry asked confused. "Snape isn't behind me is he?" Harry resisted the urge to look over his shoulder it would be just his luck to run into the Professor outside of class. The man had an unnatural dislike of him and Longbottom too come to think of it.

"Come to make fun of me then?" Neville asked bitterly.

"What? Why would I do that?" Harry asked confused.

"Why else would you be here?"

"Malfoy nicked your Remembrall, I'm just returning it," Harry held out a little ball as proof of his claims.

"Thanks," Neville said taking the Remembrall cautiously, it immediately turned scarlet.

"Wonder what you forgot?"

"Password to the Common room," said miserably.

"Oh… well don't worry I'm sure one of your gryffindor mates will be around before too long," Harry said awkwardly in an attempt to comfort him.

"I doubt it," the boy said miserably.

"You never know Neville; Parvati stood up to Malfoy for you after Hooch sent you on your way."

"Really?" Neville sounded surprised.

"Yeah, I mean don't read too much into it, but she did."

"Oh…. Why does everyone hate me?"

"Not everyone hates you… most people don't even know who you are."

"Oh…"

"Listen Neville, no one really hates you… well besides Snape. Malfoy doesn't even really hate you; you're just a convenient target."

"How can I make him stop?"

"You've come to right place, Neville," Harry said with a grin. "I'm a right expert at dealing with bullies."

"But you're Harry Potter?" Neville sounded confused.

"Bullying effects all of us… plus being a saint in the wizard world doesn't exactly translate into the muggle one where I grew up. Now there are three ways to beat a bully. Number one; be more likeable…"

"Oh…"

"Don't look so down mate, if you were likeable to Malfoy then there would be something wrong with you. In any case the other two are closer to what you need. Number Two; outrun the bully."

"I'm not very fast," Neville said miserably.

"And third be stronger than the bully… or at least strong enough so he thinks it's not worth the trouble to fight you."

"Oh… I'm rubbish at magic…"

"Well of course you're rubbish at magic Neville!" Harry exclaimed in annoyance. "We're all rubbish at magic, if we were any good at it we wouldn't need to go to this school now would we?"

"I mean I'm more rubbish then everyone else."

"You're kidding right? I tried to get my bed sheets to fold themselves and the bloody things ended up trying to strangle me. You can't be any worse than that… look Neville magic is all about practice you just need to try a little harder," Harry tried to sound encouraging.

"That's what everyone says," Neville muttered darkly. "I'm trying as hard as I can… what if I'm just a squib?"

"If you were a squib they wouldn't have given you the letter." Harry paused for thought. "Maybe you just lack a bit of confidence… try getting a few easy spells under your belt and then moving onto the big stuff."

"D-do you think you can help me Harry?"

Harry paused at that. On one hand he did genuinely feel sorry for Neville and he even emphasized with him, having been bullied all of his life. On the other it would be a lot of work, and Harry already had too much on his plate.

"Alright…" Harry replied with a martyred sigh. "Come to charms club next week and I'll see what I can do."

_**("The first and most important part of any spell is confidence, if a wizard does not believe he can fly then he cannot,"- Filius Flitwick)**_

_Dear Harry,_

_I can't express how pleased I am to see you in my old alma mater, Slytherin House, I always did say your mother would've done well there. No matter how much you look like your father I dare say your much more her son then James's. _

_Now the Order of the Serpent, I'm glad you mentioned it, I'd quite forgotten them. When I went to school all of the houses had organizations like that, but once Dumbledore took over he did away with those sorts of things. I did however always suspect that the Order was still active. Truthfully I never even tried to put it out of commission. It's a rather harmless rite of passage. I never could understand why Dumbledore hated the idea of it so much. _

_As for the Longbottom boy you mentioned, he wouldn't be Frank and Alice's son would he? Great people, two of my favorites though not as dear as your mother. They unfortunately aren't with us any longer, that poor boy; it happened a day or two after your parents. That war did terrible things, Harry, but the poor Longbottoms must've thought the worst was over, that they had survived… and then a knock on their door. The world is cruel. I can only hope that you and Neville can live the life your parents didn't get the chance to. _

_About Severus. I really think you might be exaggerating things, I don't mean to say you're lying, far from it, but things look different from the teacher's desk, as I well know. Severus after all was a dear friend of your mother's for a great many years._

_Now what's with these rumors I've been hearing about a troll breaking into the school during Halloween? Surely that can't be right. Dumbeldore would never allow it!_

_Sincerely,_

_Horace Slughorn _

_**(It's no wonder nobody can stand her, she's a nightmare honestly,"- Ron Weasley)**_

"No it's not Wingardium Leviosa Neville," Hermione explained harshly at the first year table in charms club. "It's Win-gar-dium Levi-o-sa, make the gar nice and long."

"Granger's got it wrong Longbottom, just say it however you feel comfortable," Harry said soothingly.

"He's not going to learn anything that way!" Hermione snapped.

"Oh calm down Granger, it doesn't matter how you say the words just so long as you say them."

"All the books clearly state that the incantation is the most important part!"

"And it is the most important part," Harry replied. "But you're wand will know what you mean even if your accent garbles it. How do you think German blokes manage to do magic? It's not as if they all go around with an English accent every time they cast a spell."

Hermione spluttered, but ultimately had no reply. Neville however still failed to get his feather to rise.

"Relax mate, it's all about confidence, you've got to believe the feather will rise."

"It's no use, I'm rubbish at this."

"Okay Neville that's the exact opposite of what I just told you to do," Harry's voice was beginning to show his annoyance. "Alright what spell can you do right?"

"While, not many… but I guess I'm okay with the wand lighting one," Neville said uncertainly.

"Alright then do it."

"Lumos!" Neville's wand tip glowed, but it was nowhere near as bright a Harry's usually was.

"Alright, now why can you do that spell and not this one? It's all just magic," Harry said encouragingly.

"But I'm rubbish at even that spell and it's a whole lot simpler," Neville moaned. "I think it's 'cause I'm not powerful enough."

"There's no such thing as magical power Neville," Hermione chimed in. "That theory was disproven year ago."

"I loath to say it, but Granger's right," said Harry. "There's no such thing as a lot or a little magic, either you have magic or you don't."

"That's easy for you lot to say, you're good at it."

Harry was about to snap at Neville, when he saw a flash of pink hair at the seventh year table. "Hermione keep working him I've got an idea."

Hermione gave Harry an odd look, but he was already gone.

"Hey Tonks, can you do me a favor?" he asked the seventh year Hufflepuff who had been his tutor at the first club meeting.

"Wotcher Harry," She said cheerfully. "What do you need?"

"Mind casting a cheering charm on my friend over there, I want to test a little scientific theory."

"What! Flitwick will have my head if he sees me cast something like that on a first year," Tonks whispered fiercely.

"Listen, he just has some confidence issues-,"

"Well then go get him a girl and a broom closet! That'll fix him right up."

"Tonks… he's eleven."

"Ok so forget the broom closet, either way I'm not going to help you."

"Please," Harry said giving her his best puppy eyes.

Tonks snorted. "Oh please Harry, that's not going to work on me."

"Pretty please," Harry continued tilting his head to one side.

"Not falling for it Potter."

"Please…" Harry made his bottom lip tremble just a little bit.

"Oh… Fine," Tonks said reluctantly reaching for her wand, "but never again, and you never tell anyone!"

'Wow women really fall for that?' Harry thought to himself.

She pointed her wand at Neville and whispered a few words under her breath, instantly the boy seemed to perk up.

"Thanks Tonks you're the best!" Harry chirped happily.

"Just don't ask me to do it again," Tonks said reaching out to ruffle Harry's hair affectionately.

"Harry I did it! I did it!" Neville exclaimed happily when Harry sat down with him.

"What happened?" Harry asked though he already knew the answer.

"Well I was just sitting here, and then I got like this feeling… like I was really happy… and I mean why should I be happy? But anyways I figured I'd give the spell a go, 'cause I was in a good mood and it worked! It really worked!"

'Let's see how far we can take this,' Harry thought to himself. He managed to get Neville to perform three new spells flawlessly before the cheering charm wore off. Harry hoped that Neville would be able to use the experience to bolster his confidence in the future, but only time would tell on that front.

_**("Seriously a nightmare! You get to run off to the dungeons after class the rest of us have to live with her!"- Ron Weasley)**_

"Think you can do better Potter!" Higgs snapped one day during Quidditch practice. Harry had been throwing small balls around as Higgs tried to catch them. Usually Higgs was excellent… today was an off day.

"Well I could hardly do worse," Harry muttered under his breath. He only muttered because he knew that as his 'master,' Higgs could've made Harry do things a lot more humiliating then helping out during Quidditch Practice.

"Alright then give it a shot Potter, I need a breather anyways."

Higgs took the bag from Harry and the two traded places in midair, Harry being mounted on one of the school's run down brooms.

"Go!" Higgs called as he threw the first ball.

Harry did a quick roll to his right and caught it with ease. The second ball went high and Harry had to lunge to grab it, but he somehow maintained his balance on the broom. The third one was a low shot, Harry did his best but it fell to the ground before he could catch it.

"Alright Potter," Higgs said clearly impressed. "That was pretty good actually, let's see if you can catch this." Higgs through the ball in a high arch.

Harry desperately scanned the sky for the little ball, and then he saw it hurtling towards the ground. He pointed the handle of his broom about 20 feet in front of the ball and then laid almost flat on the broom, the next second he was gathering speed in a steep dive, racing the ball to the ground. Wind whistled in his ears and Harry grinned wide, something about the experience just felt right. He reached out his hand and caught the ball, letting out a loud whoop of excitement as he pulled out of his dive mere feet from the ground.

"Oh Marcus," Harry heard Higgs call. "I think I may have just found next year's seeker."

_**("You on the Quidditch team? Brilliant! There's nothing more attractive than a man who can dodge Bludgers!"- Tracey Davis)**_

Harry was one of only seven Slytherins who elected to stay behind that Christmas. 5 of them were in their OWL or NEWT year respectively and didn't want to be separated from the Hogwarts library. Tracey Davis also elected to remain behind with Harry, "Mum and Dad are pretty much okay with me being in Slytherin by now, but Granddad's still not happy about it. I figured it best to avoid the family this Christmas."

Harry was ecstatic this was the first Christmas that he wouldn't have to go through alone. He took to the Holiday with fervor he never had before. He even went out of his way to mail-order gifts for all of his friends, and a few of the professors. What was the point to having money if you couldn't use it?

Harry wasn't the only one who seemed to be taking the Holiday seriously. Even though the majority of students had elected to go home the staff still decorated the castle. Hagrid could be seen bringing in large Christmas trees for display in the Great Hall. Professor Flitwick gave extra credit for all students who would help him levitate bulbs onto the trees. The upper years were even encouraged to enchant the suits of armor to sing Holiday carols at passersby. Harry had nearly had a heart attack when one of the suits had started singing Deck the Halls when he thought he was alone.

Harry went to bed the night of Christmas Eve, looking forward to the next day primarily for the food, as he didn't expect any presents. When he awoke however he was pleasantly surprised to see a small pile at the foot of his bed. Harry happily took his pile to the common room where he and Tracey had arranged to meet that morning.

"Look I have presents!" Harry said happily as Tracey came from the girls dorms, with a slightly larger pile.

"Wow!" Tracey said sarcastically. "You would almost think it was Christmas." Harry had made a point of not letting any of his Slytherin friends know about his home life. He trusted Tracey and to a lesser extent Blaise, but he somehow felt that the fact that his relatives hated him was private.

"Thanks Harry!" Tracey squealed happily as she opened his gift, a set of gobstones. "Now open one of yours," she demanded.

Harry's rather bad luck led him to pick up his gift from the Dursley's, a note with a fifty pence piece taped to it.

"That's horrible!" Tracey exclaimed as she read the note over his shoulder.

"Just don't bring it up again," Harry muttered throwing the present to the side.

"Why do you let them treat you like that?"

"What choice do I have? And seriously Tracey just drop it."

The rest of Harry's presents were more cheerful. Slughorn had sent Harry a book about the History of Slytherin House, along with a few pictures of his mother. Harry appreciated both.

Ron had sent him a case of Chocolate Frogs, Harry appreciated the thought as he knew the boy didn't have much money.

Neville gave Harry an introductory book on Magical Theory and thirty Sugar Quills. Harry grinned as he thought about Neville, the boy had come a long way, he wasn't by any measure the best one in the class, but he wasn't the worse anymore. Harry was sure that in a few months' time, the boy would be able to give a Malfoy a run for his money in a duel.

Blaise sent Harry a rather nice set of Self inking Quills. The accompanying note explained that he was sick and tired of listening to Harry complain about how much better pens were. Harry grinned at that, Blaise was still as high strung as ever, but he was beginning to think that the boy was loosening up.

Higgs had sent him a set of Seeker's Gloves with a note about how he would need him for next year. Harry once again thanked whatever powers there were that he had gotten the Head Boy as his master. Higgs for the most part left Harry alone outside of the occasional study session and Quidditch Practices. Malfoy's Master on the other hand had taken to following the boy around and making him loudly sing Patriotic Irish songs in the middle of the common room.

After Tracey's gift, a copy of _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_, there was only one present left. A medium sized brown paper parcel. The note on it had a loopy handwriting that Harry didn't recognize. He unwrapped it.

Something fluid and silvery gray went slithering to the floor where it lay in gleaming folds. Tracey gasped.

"That's an invisibility cloak!" She exclaimed.

'Yes, it's been a great Christmas,' Harry thought with a grin.

_**(The Goblin Rebellions of the 1500s are interesting primarily because of their effect on the finical regulatory system," Professor Binns)**_

"Alright Potter, if you haven't gotten it yet I might just have to start beating it into you," Higgs said in annoyance. "Now for the last time, Gaspard Shingleton invented the self-stirring cauldron, why?"

"So he wouldn't have to stir the cauldron," Harry ventured hopefully. He was grateful that Higgs had decided to help him study for the end of year exams, but the older boy took History way too seriously.

"Yes, but why didn't he want to stir a cauldron?" Higgs asked dangerously.

"er… cause it made his arms tired?"

"He had no arms Potter!" Higgs snapped irritably. "The man was armless! A goblin named Grognack the Barbarian cut them off in the rebellion!"

"What's the matter Terrance?" usually the seventh year was a lot more helpful and a lot less moody.

"It's the bloody NEWTS you'll understand when you're in your seventh year."

"That bad?" Harry asked sympathetically.

"You have no idea," Higgs muttered darkly.

"It can't be too hard on you, I mean you don't even really need to pass your NEWTS right? You want to be a Lawyer and your dad owns his firm, so you have a guaranteed apprenticeship."

"The apprenticeship is guaranteed but the pay isn't. Apparently I'm getting paid based on my grades. So depending on my score in Transfiguration I may be forced to live with my parents until I'm 26."

Harry flinched in sympathy for his friend? Wait. Was Higgs his friend? Harry wasn't quite sure, the older boy always helped him and Harry did enjoy his company. Plus due to Higgs role in turning Harry into a 'proper Slytherin,' they had been forced to spend a lot of time around one another. Still Harry wasn't sure if the older boy actually cared about him or was only there out of a sense of duty.

"Wotcher Harry," came a cheerful voice from his left. Harry turned to see that Tonks had decided to go with turquoise hair today. The color was pleasant in its own way but he didn't think it quite measured up to the usual pink.

"Hey Tonks." Harry noticed that Terrance had suddenly become very interested in a First year History book the second she had appeared.

"Flitwick canceled Charms Club tonight, something about an emergency choir rehearsal."

"We have a choir? When did that happen?"

"I have no idea, they just appeared one day and I didn't bother to ask any questions. Anyways pass on the word if you can."

"Yeah no problem, see you next week then?"

"Yep, see you then," Tonks called over her shoulder as she walked away.

"So is there a reason you're suddenly so interested in my History Book?" Harry asked once Tonks was out of earshot.

"I'm trying to find out… er… when Shingleton died." Terrance replied nervously.

"How much reading do you think you'll get done when you're holding the book upside down?"

"Shut up Potter!" Terrance snapped blushing.

_**("If you're smart Harry you'll leave women to someone who understands them… Like me,"-Blaise Zabini)**_

_Dear Harry, _

_The Mirror of Erised on top of a troll! I wouldn't believe it if anyone but you had told me. I have absolutely no idea what is possessing Dumbledore! He used to be a rather brilliant mind, and I was proud to call him my friend, but he should know that neither of those things have any place in a school. And although I know you don't need to be told twice, follow Dumbledore's advice! Many a good man has wasted away before the mirror and I wouldn't want such a promising young lad as you to fall for its spell. _

_Anyways about what you said on the Longbottom boy's progress, I'm impressed. I've never heard of a cheering charm being used for that purpose, but I must say it's quite ingenuous. Keep it under wraps that you used a mind altering spellon a first year though, that's generally frowned upon. _

_Now tell me you've been studying too Harry, exams are in a month's time and it wouldn't do for a wizard as bright as you to have to repeat his first year. I joke of course, but do be careful, exams aren't to be trifled with. _

_Also I am glad you liked both of my gifts, not many people your age appreciate knowledge as much as you do. I am also happy to say that I received the crystalized pineapple you sent me, and it is delicious!. How did you know it was my favorite? No don't tell me, a good wizard never reveals his sources… Was it Minvera?_

_Sincerely,_

_Horace Slughorn_

_**("Unlike others in this school I have no intention of letting you coast by on your fame alone,"- Severus Snape)**_

"What are the uses of a bezoar?" Harry quizzed Blaise one night in the common room to help prepare for their upcoming finals.

"How the bloody hell should I know?" Blaise answered.

"Because Snape has only said it three times in the last month," Tracey answered before Harry could.

"I still don't see why I have to study! It's Harry who he hates; he'll just give the rest of us a pass. He always lets us Slytherins get away with murder you know that."

"My dad will kill me if I 'just pass,' potions. He's a healer you know, and, he still thinks I'm going to be one too." Tracey snorted a little as if to suggest the idea was ridiculous.

` "We should focus on more important things," Blaise continued.

"Like?" Harry asked curiously.

"Like our Master Gifts, I still can't figure out what the devil to give Parkins?"

"Master gifts?" Tracey asked confused.

"We have to get gifts for our masters as some end of year thing," Harry explained.

` "What do you get the devil anyways? A new pitchfork?" Blaise asked sarcastically.

"You're exaggerating Parkins isn't the devil," Harry chided lightly.

"Easy for you to say. You lucked out and got Higgs, at least he doesn't actively hate your guts."

"Higgs is alright," Harry admitted. "But look on the bright side at least you didn't get stuck with O'Neal."

"Yeah I guess things can always be worse," Blaise agreed while nodding sagely.

"You could be Malfoy," Tracey agreed solemnly.

"Do you have any idea what you're going to get Higgs?" Blaise asked Harry.

"Don't suppose he'd take an autographed picture?" Harry said hopefully.

Blaise snorted a little at the idea. "You could even get him his very own Harry Potter doll!"

"They actually make those!?" Harry blushed a little at the thought.

"Oh yes, no girls collection is complete without one" Tracey said deadpanned. "I even married mine once. My Daddy was the minister. We even trained my dog to be the ring bearer… you know so he's ready."

"Ready for what?" Harry asked confused.

"For when we marry for real silly," Tracey said leaning in as if to kiss Harry.

"W-what!?"

"THE LOOK ON YOUR FACE!" Tracey exclaimed as she collapsed laughing, Blaise not far behind her.

"I hate both of you."

_**("Women are like Dragons you see 'cause… er… no that don't make sense,"- Hagrid)**_

"Tonks!" Harry called as he saw the seventh year emerging from the great Hall one Saturday morning, her hair purple for the day.

"Heya Harry," she responded cheerfully.

"I need to talk to you about something important."

"Hair popping up in weird places?"

"No!" Harry snapped and then he stopped to think about it for a second. "Well actually yes. How did you know?"

Tonks seemed to find this funny for some reason that was beyond Harry's comprehension. 'Women,' he thought to himself and shrugged.

"Listen Harry as much as I would love to be the one to tell you about the Unicorns and Hippogriffs I think that might be a conversation for your guardian to have with you."

"Uncle Vernon's a muggle; he doesn't know anything about hippogriffs… or unicorns either now that I think about it."

"His poor wife," Tonks said desperately trying not to laugh.

"Oh Aunt Petunia doesn't seem to mind, I don't think she'd want a hippogriff rampaging around her garden after all."

"Harry, all women want a Hippogriff rampaging through their garden," Tonks replied deadpanned.

"Really? Odd, none of them ever mention it." Harry was clearly confused, and Tonks was clearly amused.

"Oh Harry, there are so many things I have to teach you and so little time," Tonks said solemnly laying a hand on his shoulder as the pair walked out of the Entrance Hall and onto the Grounds.

"Well can it wait? I did have to talk to you about something important before you got us all off topic."

"Ask away."

"Ineedyoutogoonadateforme?" Harry said in a rush.

"You need me to goon a dementor swarm?" Tonks asked confused.

"Sorry." Harry blushed red. "I meant to say, I need you to go on a date for me." Harry knew it was a rather awkward question to ask, but this was his last hope. He had spent weeks agonizing over what to give Higgs for his end of year gift, but he hadn't come up with anything. That is at least until he had found a pile of unsent love letters in Higgs's study.

"Harry." Tonks sighed and knelt down so they were face to face. She looked rather sad. "I knew this might happen when we started spending time together, boys develop crushes easily, it's nothing to be ashamed of, but me and you… we just wouldn't work."

"What?" Harry asked confused.

"Harry you're cute and the girls will be all over you in a year or two, but I mean I'm seventeen and you're still a kid."

"What are you talking about?"

"I know it's hard to take rejection Harry, but you'll get over me eventually. I mean it might take a year or two but in time you-."

"Ew! Tonks! No! You're like old enough to be my mother!" Harry exclaimed.

"Hey! I'm not that old!"

"Close enough!"

"Okay Harry I see how this is going to be, I reject you and now you're just going to insult me."

"Tonks, I wasn't asking you to go on a date with me! I don't even like girls." Then Harry thought about the butterflies he got in his stomach when Daphne Greengrass smiled at him. "Well at least not much…"

"Ok if you weren't asking me out, what were you doing?"

"I was asking you to go on a date _fo_r me, not _with_ me." Harry sighed in exasperation; old people were so weird sometimes.

"I'm confused."

"Ok it's like this. I have a friend, who really likes you and I think you two might be good together and well I was thinking maybe you guys could meet up in Hogsmeade sometime."

"And how old is your friend?"

"Eighteen I think," Harry shrugged.

"Harry tell me now," Tonks said her eyes glinting dangerously. "Did one of the upper years put you up to this? I swear if one of those bastards dragged you into the 'let's all harass the Metamorphmagus game,' I'll kill them."

"No Tonks, no one put me up to anything."

"Don't worry if they threatened you Harry, I can take them."

"Listen Tonks if the guy even knew I was here, he'd probably kill me."

"Then why are you here?"

"Because I think you guys would be good together, like I said."

'Real reason Harry?" Tonks said impatiently.

"What a guy can't want to see two of his friends happy?"

"First years don't go around asking things like that unless they have a good reason, now what's yours."

Harry sighed. "Alright here it is. We have this system in Slytherin where an older student sort of mentors a first year. In exchange we're supposed to give them a gift at the end of the year. My guy has been really good to me, and I know he has a thing for you and I mean… well if it means anything I do really think you guys would be good together."

"Harry," Tonks said softly. "I'm sorry to mess up your plans, but I'm not going to go on a date with some guy just because you recommend him. And if he likes me so much why hasn't he said anything himself?"

"He's probably shy… I mean don't take this the wrong way Tonks, but the older guys all seem to think… highly of you."

"That's one way to put it," Tonks said with a bitter snort. "Who's your friend anyways?"

"Terrance Higgs."

"The Head Boy?"

"And the Seeker for Slytherin," Harry added helpfully.

"He's cute I guess but he's a bit quiet for my tastes."

"It's only one date, and he's a really nice guy."

"Don't take offense to this Harry, but I generally don't take romantic advice from eleven year olds."

"Please?" Harry pulling out his secret weapon. Puppy eyes.

"Harry that won't work this time," Tonks voice betrayed her annoyance.

In response Harry merely tilted his head to the side and tried to look even cuter.

"Harry that really won't work this time, and I mean it."

Harry let his bottom lip tremble a little bit.

"Oh damn it!" Tonks exclaimed as she reached out to ruffle his hair. "One date! And you owe me! Big time!"

_**("Finals week is statistically the most dangerous time of the year to be at Hogwarts,"- Terrance Higgs)**_

Harry felt immensely confident about the outcome of his end of year exams. In transfiguration he managed to turn his rat into a snuffbox, it wasn't as nice as Hermione's but it was better than Tracey's which still had a tail. He had absolutely delighted Professor Flitwick when he managed to make his pineapple do a cancan dance. Herbology was easy enough after an afternoon of studying with Neville who was apparently a prodigy. Defense Against the Dark Arts, History of Magic, and Astronomy were all unimportant in Harry's mind though he was sure he had still done well in them. He might've been more interested in Defense, but Professor Quirrell's teaching methods left… something to be desired.

The only subject about which he held any reservations was potions. He was an average brewer on the best of days, but Snape had been breathing down his neck. Not only that, but the fumes from his Forgetfulness Potion, made him rather light headed. It had taken him nearly a minute to remember Tracey's name when he tried to ask her permission to borrow a knife.

Feeling rather faint after all the exertion Harry tuned in early that night.

When he awoke he wasn't in his bed, but in a familiar dark and dank room. To either side of him were his roommates, and in front of him were the black robes of the Fraternal Order of the Serpent. Their masks were absent this time and Harry could clearly see their faces, though he had already guessed who most of them were.

"Welcome back firsties," Higgs said calmly. "You've passed all of our tests so far, and if you pass the one tonight, you will be considered full members of the House of Slytherin. If you fail, then you can look forward to another year of torture."

Higgs paused for a bit to let that message sink in. "When I call your name come forward and present your gift to your master, if he deems it worthy you shall become a Slytherin. Crabbe, Vincent."

Crabbe approached his master and presented a rather ornate looking dagger. The seventh year admired it for a few second before nodding. "It'll do." And so Crabbe became the first Slytherin of the night. Next Goyle gave, a rather nice clock, which was accepted.

"Malfoy, Draco."

Malfoy approached O'Neal, with clear fear on his face.

Harry licked his lips and prepared to watch the humiliation unfold.

Draco reached out his hand and presented the seventh year with an ornate gold pocket watch. O'Neal disappointed Harry by accepting it, without any parting shots; apparently he thought he had tortured Draco enough. Harry disagreed.

After Nott had presented his gift Higgs called out, "Potter, Harry."

Harry strolled up to Higgs confidently. "Mind letting me whisper in your ear, I don't think you want other people to hear this one."

"What are you on about?" Higgs asked though he complied with the request.

"You've got a date with Tonks, next Hogsmeade weekend," Harry whispered in his ear.

"How did you find out that I fancied her?" Higgs whispered furiously turning the shade of a ripe tomato.

"You're about as subtle as a raging hippogriff mate," Harry chirped happily.

"But how did you get her to agree?"

"I'm Harry Potter, now stop asking stupid questions."

_**("So… Er… I see you like Pink?"- Terrance Higgs)**_

As Tonks and Terrance stepped out of the Hogwarts Express and onto Platform 9 and ¾ for the last time the former head boy pulled Tonks into a long and searing kiss.

A man Harry vaguely recognized as a muggle newscaster was glaring daggers at Terrance. Harry rather got the impression that Higgs was off to a bad start with Tonks's father. "Oi get a room you two!" Harry cried happily.

The couple jumped apart as if they had both received an electric jolt. "Oh piss off Harry," Tonks said with a Cheshire cat grin.

"You better be coming to my graduation party Potter." Terrance looked happier than Harry had ever seen him.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world Higgs, you might have to give me a ride though, I doubt my uncle would drive me to Warwickshire."

"I'll send you an owl with details," Terrance called as Tonks dragged him away.

"I'll miss you Harry," Tracey said as she came to stand next to him.

"You better not miss me Davis, 'cause that just means you haven't been owling me enough, and I do expect letters daily Tracey."

"Yes milord," she replied with a grin.

"Where did Blaise get to anyways?" Harry asked.

"Said his mother wanted to leave quickly or something," Tracey answered with a shrug. "Now come on, my dad has been dying to meet you."

"Speaking of dying, I wonder what happened to Quirrell?" The Defense Professor had been notably absent from the End of Term Feast, all Dumbledore said was that the man had, had an accident and wouldn't be returning.

"Who cares? Let's just hope the next guy doesn't stutter as much."

Looking back later Harry would always cherish his first year at Hogwarts. There were no bad guys, there were no plot twists, no dark lords, and no prophecies. He would always remember the long sunny days he and his friends had spent lounging by the lake or the cold winter nights curled up by the common room fire. For the first time in his life everything had gone right for Harry. Next year wouldn't be so peaceful.

**A/N** Well first off at just under 11,000 words this is the longest chapter I've ever written. Yay me! Now a couple of things:

The Fraternal Order of the Serpent was based off of the old system of fagging prevalent in British Boarding Schools up until the 1980s. I thought it added a sort of depth to Hogwarts, and since I didn't want Harry going after the Stone, the story needed some sort of connecting plot.

At first I was hesitant to include it as I couldn't see Malfoy consenting to be anyone's servant, but then I figured if the Duke of Wellington and the Prince of Wales weren't above tidying up after an older student neither was Draco Malfoy.

Harry recognizing Tonks's father as a muggle newscaster goes back to a theory I heard somewhere that Ted, the newsman from the first chapter of PS, was Ted Tonks. I liked it enough to include it, though for the record I do know he was a muggleborn not a muggle.

As for pairings there will be romance in this story at some point. It will be there solely to compliment the plot, and because I think ever good story needs some. That being said I haven't decided on a single pairing, I'll just let the characters write themselves if you will.

Now please read and review, I always love to hear from people who enjoyed reading my stories, and even from people who have suggestions on improvements.

**Next Chapter: Year II: Or Harry Potter and the Secret Chamber Under the Girls Loo**


	2. Year II Part I: The Writing on the Wall

**Disclaimer: **This chapter and the story it is a part of it was not written in the hopes of profiting from its sale or distribution. At current I have never and have no plans in the future of receiving monetary compensation for this work.

**Acknowledgement: **Parts of this chapter and indeed all chapters in this story were lifted word for word from cannon. These parts are small segments only and are there only to provide context. All credit for these segments go to JKR, who I thank for providing me with such a rich universe.

**EDIT: **Minor changes have been made in scene seperaton since this chapter has been published.

**A/N** As usual I apologize for the ridiculously long wait, my only excuse is that going to college full time and working full time doesn't leave much space for even part time writing. Plus I have a crippling Skyrim addiction. And I just bought the Mass Effect Trilogy…

A True Slytherin Book II, Chapter I:

Or Harry Potter and The Year Long Wait For An Update

By the first week of summer Harry was bored out of his mind. He couldn't even do homework. Vernon had locked Harry's trunk and all of his school supplies in the old cupboard soon as they had arrived back from the train station. Harry hadn't been prepared for that, and he was still kicking himself for not having had a backup plan. Next year he would make a point to have one of the upper years magically enlarge his pockets enough to carry a few spell books and other essentials.

Other than taking his stuff, the Dursleys had pretty much left him alone. Vernon and Petunia both seemed content to pretend he didn't exist, except for the infrequent occasions when they needed his help with groceries or something. While Dudley had apparently decided to stay away from Harry, more than likely because the boy still remembered what had happened the last time he had run into a wizard.

"Who the Devil are you!" came the muffled voice of Vernon Dursley from downstairs.

Harry shrugged it off; his uncle was more than likely going off on some poor kid trying to sell magazines or something.

"I WON'T HAVE YOUR KIND IN MY HOUSE!"

Harry found that harder to ignore and his eyes immediately flicked to his bedroom door as he felt his stomach drop. There was dull thud followed quickly by a scream.

"YOU KILLED HIM!" Came the screeching voice of his Aunt Petunia.

Harry was out of his bed in a flash, he reached for his wand out of instinct but he couldn't find it. It took him a moment to remember that it was locked up in the old cupboard along with the rest of his stuff. Silently cursing his Uncle Vernon, Harry ran out of his room. He might not have his wand, but maybe he would be able to take the attacker by surprise. It wasn't much, but as far as he could see his only other option was jumping out of the window and it would be far too hard to run away with a broken leg.

"I didn't kill him I swear!" came a familiar voice the owner of which was clearly panicking.

Harry came downstairs to see Higgs pleading his case to Petunia who had a frying pan raised in a position to attack. Vernon was lay unmoving on the floor.

"Oh Bugger!" Terrance exclaimed dodging a blow from Petunia. "_Petrificus Totalus_!"

Harry let out gleeful laugh as Aunt Petunia fell to the floor; it wasn't a lethal spell after all.

"Lovely relatives you have Harry," Terrance's voice was weary and stunned at the same time.

"Yeah, consider yourself lucky you don't have to live with them," Harry answered. "Why are you here anyways? Not that I'm not glad to see you or anything."

'Didn't you get my owl?"  
>"I haven't gotten any mail since the term ended," Harry's voice betrayed his confusion.<p>

"That's odd." Terrance pointed his wand at Harry and muttered an incantation under his breath. "Looks like you have a redirect charm on you," he said after a second or two.

"A what?"

"Common enough spell, wizards usually use it when they don't want to be bothered with owls for whatever reason."

"Can you get rid of it?" asked Harry.

"I wouldn't want to make the attempt, could mess something up pretty bad. But I'll have my dad take a look at it after the party."

"Party?"  
>"My Graduation Party, remember I told you about it at the Station?" Said Terrance<p>

"That's today then? Let me go get changed, I can't show up in muggle clothes can I?"

"I wouldn't advise it, no."

"Well small problem, Uncle Vernon locked my stuff in the cupboard once we got back from the station."

"Why did he do that?"

"He's not a real fan of magic as you probably noticed."

Terrance gave him an odd look when he said that, but didn't push the point, for which Harry was eternally grateful. He didn't like the idea of people knowing about his home life, he didn't like the idea of appearing weak. Harry had never told anyone about his family even Tracey and Blaise, and if Harry had his choice it would stay that way.

**("It's not really a party 'till someone makes an ass of themselves,"- Terrance Higgs)**

Terrance's Party wasn't exactly fun by Harry's usual standards, but after a week of the Dursley's it felt like Disneyland to him. The attendance was rather mixed, about a hundred people, some Hogwarts students and their parents, but mainly Terrance's relatives and a few of his dad's clients. The Hogwarts kids were all much older than him, and with the exception of Tonks who had to leave early he didn't really know them. For the most part the students formed their own group and left him alone. The older guests however all seemed to want to talk to him.

"Something is wrong in that place I can tell." Harry heard Terrance's voice come from a closed door. He had left the party to try and find the loo and he was in a relatively isolated section of the house.

"Like what?" The second voice belonged to Terrance's father.

"The way they reacted when I showed up, for one."

"An oddly dressed man on my front porch saying 'I'm here for your nephew,' I would've reacted poorly too."

"The fat one said something about not wanting any of my 'kind,' in his house and they had his wand hidden from him."

"The man was a muggle he couldn't be expected to know what it means to take a wand from a wizard."

"There's something wrong there, I know it."

"If you really think so then ask Harry."

"He won't tell me anything, he's too proud."

"Or maybe there's nothing to tell."

"You weren't there dad. Trust me there's no love lost in that house. He shouldn't be there; he needs to be with his own kind."

"That was a discussion the politicians had a decade ago, it's far too late to do anything about it now."

"Well someone should."

"Terrance the first rule of a good lawyer is to pick your battles. If you decide to fight on this one, I can tell you that you will lose. Dumbledore and the Minister collectively decided to put him with those muggles, and you yourself said that Harry isn't complaining so there's no reason to move him."

Harry had been invited to spend the night at the Higgs's house and had gladly accepted. He was surprised the next morning to find Albus Dumbledore sitting at the kitchen table quietly humming a song Harry didn't recognize. Terrance's father sat next to him quietly sipping his coffee.

"Ah, good morning Mr. Potter, slept well I trust?" the old Professor enquired politely.

"Yes, sir," Harry answered, confused by the man's presence.  
>"Excellent, I must say, I am rather surprised to see you here." Dumbledore made it sound like they had run into each other at a bus station. "I was just here to speak to Hector," he indicated Terrance's father, "about a case he'll be arguing before the Wizengamot."<p>

"Speaking of which," began Mr. Higgs. "I don't see why we can't cite Harrison V. Pascal, it clearly set a precedent for mediation outside the Wizengamot being binding."

"My dear man, it set the precedent that foreign courts have a right to decide cases involving British Citizens so long as the case in question occurred primarily in the nation that court represents. It did not however set any precedent for judicial decisions within the Isles of Britain to be made by any authority other than the Wizengamot and its approved representatives."

"It shows that there are other authorities besides the British Court," Mr. Higgs fired back.

"You are of course entitled to your legal opinion," Dumbledore said politely. "However I can assure you that the Wizengamot will not be voting to limit its authority."

Mr. Higgs muttered something under his breath that Harry couldn't quite hear.

"Now that, that matter is finished I do believe I must be on my way," Dumbledore said rising from the chair. "Mr. Potter it would be no trouble for me to drop you off at your relatives on my way back to Hogwarts."

Harry could tell that it was a command, despite the polite tone and the friendly twinkling in the professor's eyes. He turned to Mr. Higgs looking for support and found none. Harry understood that as a lawyer the man couldn't risk offending the leader of the Wizengamot.

"I'll go with you sir," Harry said grudgingly, he had no other choice.

"Splendid," Dumbledore replied happily. "Oh and Hector, do tell Terrance that Harry should remain with his relatives until his birthday."

Harry bristled at that. Dumbledore was the Headmaster of Hogwarts but that hardly gave him the authority to dictate how Harry spent his summers. If Dumbledore noticed the young man's indignation he gave no sign of it, before they both disappeared with a small pop.

"Where are we?" Harry asked Professor Dumbledore as they appeared in a place that was most clearly not Privet Drive. They were surrounded on all sides by trees and other shrubbery and Harry could hear nothing in the distant but the chirping of birds.

"We are in a rather secluded section of what the muggles call Regent's Park." Dumbledore waved his wand and in an instant two cushy armchairs appeared. "Do sit down Mr. Potter."

"Why are we here? I thought you were taking me back to the Dursley's."

"You looked as if you wanted to ask me something and I say you deserve some answers."

"So you're just going to tell me what I want to hear?" Harry asked disbelievingly.

"Well I intend to tell you the truth and if it should be what you want to hear, then that will be quite the happy coincidence."

"So I can ask anything?" Harry pressed.

"You can ask me anything Mr. Potter, and I shall do my level best to answer you honestly."

"Fine. Why is it so important that I get back to the Dursley's?"

"I shall answer that question with another question, if you'll permit me of course," Dumbledore replied with a small twinkle in his eyes.

"Go ahead, sir," Harry said cautiously.

"Did you by chance notice Professor Quirrell's absence at the leaving feast?"

"Not until you pointed it out, the Professor wasn't exactly a noticeable person you know."

"Yes Quirinus did endeavor to keep a low profile," Dumbledore replied with a nod. "It served his purposes to remain unnoticed."

"What are you saying sir?"

"It emerged shortly before the end of term feast that Professor Quirrell was a servant of Lord Voldemort."

Harry flinched slightly at the name, not out of any real fear but because it was what well-mannered people did. "So you're saying Professor Quirrell was a Death Eater?"

"I doubt that he ever received the Dark Mark, but yes that is an accurate description. And that is precisely why you must return to your relatives no matter how detestable we both might find the prospect."

"I'm sorry Professor but I don't follow your logic."

"Have you ever wondered why I, and by I, I mean myself and several other members of the government, chose to place you with muggles." Dumbledore's voice was laced with irony, that lead Harry to believe that the choice had been entirely the Headmaster's.

"They were my closest living relatives," Harry answered with a shrug.

"Precisely, how much do you know about Blood Magic, Mr. Potter?"

The question surprised Harry greatly; blood magic was generally looked down upon; labeled as dark and barbaric. Harry knew however that, that opinion had more to do with its pagan origins. Wizards had a natural aversion to religion.

"I take it by your silence not much?" Dumbledore inquired politely after a short pause. "That's hardly surprising most people never have to deal with it as there are much better and safer ways of doing things nowadays. In some cases however the more obscure magics are the best."

"So you're saying that my staying at the Dursley's has something to do with blood magic?"

"Quite correct, you see the world was quite different just a decade ago, Voldemort was gone but his followers remained. Indeed less than a day after I placed you with your family there was an attack that left two of your parent's friends… well I've always maintained that there are things worse than death."

"But there must have been a way to protect me in the Wizarding world?" Harry pointed out.

"Yes," Dumbledore answered simply. "We could've stationed a squad of Aurors outside of your bedroom, but I didn't think that such an environment would be a good place for you to grow up in."

"And the Dursley's were?" Harry blurted before he could stop himself.

"At the time they appeared to be," Dumbledore said with a sigh. "They were after all already legally your guardians, and your mother had never informed me of her sisters… views… By all appearances they treated their own son quite well, perhaps they spoiled him but that's hardly unusual."

"Dudley's more than a little spoiled," Harry remarked with a snort.

"And in any case you were perfectly safe with the Dursley's, so long as you call Privet Drive home you are safe from Death Eaters and those who serve Lord Voldemort. If you would like proof of that, I can only point out that you spent a great deal of time under the tutelage of Professor Quirrell and in that time he couldn't harm you."

"He didn't even try," Harry replied.

"You must trust Mr. Potter that I have studied magic for many years and the most powerful magic is the kind that is imperceptible. I assure you that the late Professor had your elimination near the very top of his agenda, yet whenever he appeared ready to make his move something always interfered. The older magics are often subtle, but I assure you that you are alive today because of it."

"Professor I don't care. No protection is worth going back to that place every summer." Harry felt, as most people his age feel, invincible. The thought of being attacked by a death eater was as alien to him as the thought of being mugged was to a normal child.

"It pains me that you don't see the wisdom in my actions," Dumbeldore began, "that doesn't however make my caution any less prudent. In many ways I've failed you Mr. Potter, and for that I am truly sorry," in Dumbledore's defense he did look rather contrite. "Unfortunately I find myself forced to fail you again."

And with that their conversation was done and Harry was on his way back to Number 4.

**("A man can't even be safe from freaks in his own home! the country's going to the dogs!-" Vernon Dursley)**

"How does it do that?" Harry asked idly as the his plate cleaned itself leaving no evidence that it had ever been covered in lasagna.

"You're such a muggle sometimes Potter," Terrance said with a good natured laugh.

"What's wrong with wanting to know how something happens?" Harry asked as he looked out of the restaurant window. It was a small wizard run place in London, Harry could just make out Canary Wharf in the distance.

"Wizard's don't worry about the how only the why," Terrance replied sagely. "Let's just say it's magic and leave it at that , no need to complicate things."

"Why, the why and not the how?"

"Because the why is easy to understand, the owner likes his dishes clean so he spells them that way. The how, however is infinitely complex. People a lot smarter than me or you have spent their lives trying to understand the how. And the simple answer is there is no answer. Magic is just that magic," Terrance said contently.

"How poetic," Harry answered sarcastically. In truth though he was rather enjoying himself, the last few weeks had passed by at a slow crawl for Harry. Terrance insisted on checking weekly, an occasion that Harry always looked forward to. His friend's visit hadn't made the Dursley's anymore eager to let Harry have his wand, although the threat he posed certainly made them more cautious around him. Harry according to his nature took complete advantage of the Dursley's new found desire to ignore him. For the first time in his entire life he had free roam of Little Whinging, the novelty soon wore off. To someone who was accustomed to living in a castle and flying about on a broomstick a small commuter town had very little to offer.

Harry always looked forward to Terrance's visits, although he couldn't help but be uncomfortable whenever his older friend got a glimpse into his somewhat depressing home life. Harry logically knew that he should be glad that his friends cared, but there was something about admitting that he wasn't capable of taking care of his own problems that irked him.

"Anyways I was thinking Harry," Terrance cut into his thoughts. "I'm moving into my Flat in a week, I wouldn't mind your company for the rest of the summer. And you're birthday is in a few days anyways so Dumbledore won't be able to complain."

"I don't know," Harry said reluctantly. In his mind Harry was ecstatic at the prospect of getting out of the Dursley's early, but at the same time he didn't want to be a burden. He had after all been raised in an environment where there was no one to look after him but himself. The idea that someone else would actually want to look after him was rather... alien. "I don't want to be a burden."

"Nonsense you're old enough to feed yourself, and I doubt I'll have to tuck you in at night," Terrance said happily enough.

"Still," Harry answered reluctantly, "I'm sure you and Tonks would like to have a little time to yourself."

"Not that it's any of your business, but we haven't quite gotten that far in the relationship. Besides," he continued, "She'll be at Auror Academy by the time your birthday passes anyway, and the first six month of that is spent at the Foulness Barracks."

"Foulness Barracks?" Harry asked as he considered the offer.

"Yes out in Essex the Muggles think it's a military base or a bird preserve or something… it's always amusing how they can be so ignorant of the world around them," Terrance said happily enough. "In any case though are you going to move in or not?"

Harry did take up Terrance's offer, and after he got over the awkwardness of being beholden to someone he found his new home to be a tremendous improvement. Being located in the middle of London, it certainly provided better scenery then Little Whinging had to offer. And Terrance cared about Harry's comings and goings about as much as the Dursley's did, so long as Harry didn't stay out too late he could do as he pleased.

Most days he would wander the streets of muggle London. To someone raised in a small suburb the chance to explore such a famous city was nearly as magical as Hogwarts itself. Though Harry found after a week even a large city lost its charm when compared to the supernatural. He considered going to Diagon Alley, but besides a quick trip to get money and the occasional errand for Higgs He had avoided the center of Wizarding London. Even after a year at Hogwarts he was still uncomfortable at being recognized in the street.

One day about a week after he had moved in Harry came back from a day of exploring Muggle London to find a house elf sitting in the drawing room.

"Er… hello," Harry greeted the elf assuming it was waiting for Higgs. Occasionally a wealthier client wouldn't feel comfortable sending a letter by owl and would instead use a house elf as a courier.

"Harry Potter!" squeaked the elf with a look of elation on its face. "Long has Dobby wanted to meet you sir! Such an honor it is."

"Well… er… thank you…" Harry replied feeling distinctly awkward about the whole situation. "Would you like to sit down?"

"Sit down?" The elf said a look of wonder in its eyes, "Dobby has never been asked to sit down before, like an equal."

"Well er would you like to?"

"No! No! Never! Dobby couldn't" the elf said nervously. Dobby who had seemed at first in awe of the prospect now began to looked positively frightened at breaking the social code which said no house elf should sit in a wizards presence.

"Well is there anything I could do to help you?" Harry asked feeling more and more uncomfortable by the minute.

"Dobby has come a great way to protect Harry Potter, to warn him," The elf said his eyes nervously darting side to side as if he expected to be attacked at any moment. "There is a danger coming, Dobby has known for many months, there are dark things to come at Hogwarts. Harry Potter is much to important! Harry Potter must not go to Hogwarts!"

"Excuse me!?" Harry responded in shock.

"There is a plan Harry Potter, an evil and sinister plan. Harry Potter must not return to Hogwarts, if he does there will be mortal danger! Promise Dobby that Harry Potter will not return to Hogwarts!"

Harry for his part could only stare flabbergasted at the elf. "What terrible things? Who's plotting them?" Harry after he had gathered himself.

"Dobby mustn't say, Dobby Mustn't say!" The elf screeched before running to the nearest wall and bashing his head repeatedly into it. Harry had heard of house elves punishing themselves from Blaise but he had never witnessed it before, in all truth it was rather frightening.

"Dobby stop!" Harry ordered as he pulled the creature away from the wall. "Alright," Harry said once he had gotten the elf under control. "I understand you can't give me specifics, but why are you even warning-" it was then that a rather unpleasant thought struck him as he remembered what Dumbledore had told him about Quirrell. "Is a death eater behind all this?"

Dobby slowly nodded his head. Just then the sound of the lock turning came from the front door.

"Harry Potter must not return to Hogwarts!" Dobby yelled one last time, and in the blink of an eye he had vanished into thin air.

"What's the matter Potter you look as of you've just seen a ghost," Terrance said cheerfully as he walked into the room.

**(As your lawyer I should advise you that failure to warn of a Death Eater attack is punishable by up to 20 years in Azkaban,"- Terrance Higgs)**

"Is a death eater behind all this?" Harry watched himself say.

Dobby slowly nodded his head. Just then the sound of the lock turning came from the front door.

"Harry Potter must not return to Hogwarts!" Dobby yelled one last time, and in the blink of an eye he had vanished into thin air. Half a second latter the world itself dissolved around Harry before reappearing in the shape of the Headmaster's Office.

"You did the right thing bringing this to me Harry," Dumbledore said as he too emerged from the Pensieve. He immediately walked over to his desk and began writing down a note. In all truth Harry didn't want to be anywhere near Dumbledore after there last conversation. But Higgs had informed him in very stern tones what the penalties for failure to warn of a Death Eater attack were.

'Take this to Alastor," Dumbledore said tying the parchment he had been writing on to the foot of his phoenix. The bird promptly vanished in an eruption of flame. "Now Harry, are there any other details with which you could provide me?"

"I'm sorry sir, I only know what Dobby told me."

"I see."

"Do you not believe me sir?" Harry said taking Dumbledore's thoughtful expression for one of skepticism.

"On the contrary Harry I believe you completely; however there is precious little we can do with the evidence we currently have."

"I don't understand sir, there's clearly an attack coming, shouldn't you increase security or something?"

"The wards around Hogwarts were originally built to repel an attack by an army of over a thousand men, since then each headmaster including myself has strengthened and improved them. In truth Harry there is very little that I can do that I have not already done."

"We must also consider the alternative explanations," Dumbledore explained calmly. "It is entirely possible that one of your classmates sought to play a prank on you. It might even be the case that a Death Eater sent Dobby in order to distract us from his true objective."

"So you don't expect there to be an attack?" Harry asked feeling relived.

"It is certainly a possible that a Death Eater would in some way seek to harm us, but in truth I am inclined to doubt it," Dumbledore said soothingly. "I would however like you to know that I'll look into this matter thoroughly."

"Thank you sir," Harry stood up feeling rather silly for having wasted the headmasters time.

"You're quite welcome Mr. Potter, but in truth it is I who should thank you for bringing this to my attention."

**(There you see, you've done your duty now if something goes wrong it's all Dumbledore's fault,"-Terrance Higgs)**

_Dear Harry, _

_I am immensely relieved to hear from you after such a long period of silence, though from the contents of your letter I gather that you were understandably busy. I must admit that I feel Dumbledore was right in saying that this Dobby, might've been sent as part of a cruel joke. As a teacher I saw many, many, mean spirited things happen. _

_You must of course understand that I am not attempting to belittle the possibility of an attack, but I find the idea that a house elf would so flagrantly betray its __master… well unlikely. In all truth I think one of your cohorts in Slytherin sent him in an attempt to keep you from returning. Our house has many flaws Harry, as you've no doubt discovered for yourself… pride and vindictiveness being chief among them. It is no secret to anyone that our house was disproportionally in favor of the Dark Lord, old grudges no doubt still fester. _

_Part of the reason I was so happy to see you in Slytherin was due to my hope that perhaps you being there could go some ways to mending fences. _

_On a happier note I'm glad that you managed to spend some of the summer with young Mr. Higgs. My old friends on the Hogwarts staff were all quite taken with him. As I recall I had a hand in the education of his father, a singularly argumentative man. I could spend hours debating obscure points of history with Hector, from what I hear he's turned into quite the crack lawyer. Let me tell you Harry there's nothing quite so sensible as having a good lawyer in your corner._

_Sincerely,_

_Horace Slughorn_

**_("People often look down on Slytherins and say that we are cold, uncaring and friendless. This is simply not true! Slytherins need friends just as much as everyone else, moreso in fact. There is afterall no one more willing then a friend when you need someone to take the blame,"_ Headmaster **Phineas** **Nigellus-**Black)**

"HARRY!" Squealed Tracey as he and Higgs apparated onto Platform 9 and 3/4s the normal barrier having been suspiciously closed. Before he could react Tracey had already wrapped him in a shockingly tight hug, considering her muscle mass.

"I reckon I better go," Terrance said, a look of amusement on his face as he regarded Harry's predicament. "There's some blokes from last year that I rather not have to make small talk with." With a small pop Terrance was gone.

"So how was your summer!?" Tracey asked eagerly as she let Harry go.

"Interesting to say the least," Harry answered, "and yours?"

"Boring, when your not a round nothing fun ever seems to happen," Tracey said happily as they walked down the train tracks. "I'm glad to be away from my family though."

"They still mad at you for being sorted into Slytherin?" Harry's voice betrayed his surprise. He had known that her family wasn't originally thrilled by the idea but he had gotten the impression that things had been smoothed over.

"Mum as you know is a muggle, so she can't see what all the fuss is about. Me dad is coming around to the idea, apparently he was rather taken with you, so he says all Slytherins can't be bad. The rest of the family on the other hand aren't so supportive," Tracey finished lamely.

"That's terrible!" Harry said genuinely feeling bad for his friend.

"I guess I understand, we've been Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors for as long as anyone can remember."

"Still what to do they do that's so bad?" asked Harry.

"Well my little cousins follow me around trying to get me to curse them and when I tell them off their parents get mad and act like I'm bullying there kids. But the worst part was when my grandmum took me aside and told me to watch myself because the sort of men I was around. When I asked her what that meant she looked at me and said 'Little snakes like nothing more than to pluck a flower and leave.' Tracey said using air quotes.

"Tracey," Harry began with a completely straight face, "can I pluck your flower?"

"Oh go to hell Harry," snapped Tracey.

"I promise I won't leave," Harry said in a fake whiny voice.

"Whatever you prat, let's find Blaise and get a compartment before there all taken."

"Speaking of Blaise have you talked to him much this summer?" Harry asked.

"I tried sending him an owl about a week after school let out, but he never wrote back," Tracey answered with a shrug. "I figured he was just being lazy, boys don't seem to like writing as much as girls. Why haven't you talked to him?"

"No actually," Harry answered truthfully. "He sent me a birthday card, but besides that he hasn't answered any of my owls."

"What do you think is up with him?" Tracey asked as they walked down the platform.

"Do you think we said something to offend him?"

"No I think I'd remember that," said Tracey.

"It is Blaise you know… he's sort of touchy…" Harry replied cautiously.

"There he is," Tracey said as she pointed through the crowd.

"Whose that next to him!?" Harry asked sharply. The women standing next to Blaise could only be described as an angel who had decided to walk among mortals. She had mocca brown skin and the sort of hour glass figure most women could only dream of possessing. Harry had only just begun to appreciate girls, but even he could see that this particular specimen deserved a lot of appreciation.

"You can stop drooling Harry," Tracey said a note of disgust creeping into her voice. "That's Blaise's mum."

'That's the Black Widow!" Harry said shocked, he had been expecting something a bit more demonic from a woman who had allegedly killed 5 husbands.

'What? Did you think all those millionaires married her for her personality?" Tracey asked sarcastically. "Men!" She huffed before waving towards Blaise. It took the boy a few seconds to realize that Tracey was trying to get his attention but his reaction when he did notice was nothing short of comical. A look of recognition followed by complete terror came over his face and he turned around so quickly that Harry thought apparition had to have been involved.

"What the hell is that about?" Tracey asked as she started to walk towards Blaise.

"Leave it!" Harry said grabbing her arm, "He clearly doesn't want us around right now, we'll find him on the train and figure out what's going on."

It was harder than they had ever imagined to find an empty compartment on the Hogwarts Express but they did eventually manage to find one in the back. Harry remembered his primary school days when only cool kids sat in the back, and he grinned slightly at the absurdity of it.

Blaise arrived in their compartment a few minutes later with a falsely cheerful look on his face "Hello!"

"Don't hello us," snapped Tracey, "what the hell was all that about on the platform?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Blaise answered calmly as the train began to pick up speed. "How was your summer Harry?"

"Maybe you wouldn't have to ask if you'd actually bothered to write us back!" Tracey interjected before Harry could even get a word in.

"Yeah sorry about that," Blaise said sheepishly, "I was a bit busy."

"What were you busy with all summer?" Tracey asked in a dangerously sweet voice.

"It's none of your business."

"So you just ignore us all summer, act like you don't know us in front of your mum, then you walk into our compartment like nothing happened… which part of this isn't our business again?" Tracey replied.

"Listen I know how this must seem, but I had my reasons ok?" Blaise answered forcefully.

"We know you had your reasons," Harry said soothingly, "But don't you think we deserve to know what those reasons were?"

"You guys wouldn't understand," Blaise muttered darkly.

"Try us," Harry responded.

"It's my mum," Blaise mumbled as he stared at the floor.

"Excuse me?" Tracey asked.

"My mum… well she wasn't a death eater or nothing, but she certainly ran in that crowd you know," Blaise responded carefully. "I just don't want her to-"

"To what!?" Tracey snapped, "you don't want mummy to think you're friends with a couple of dirty little mudbloods?"

"That's not what I said!"

"No but it's what you meant isn't?" Tracey replied.

"You guys are my friends ok!" Blaise said forcefully, "but you don't know my mum! She gets this look on her face when she's disappointed and-"

"So you don't want to admit to being friends with me 'cause it might disappoint your mother?" Tracey asked incredulously. "You're really unbelievably you know that?"

"Listen-"

"No actually," Tracey replied, "I don't really feel like listening right now. See you at the feast Harry." And with that Tracey stormed out of the compartment.

"You understand right Harry?" Blaise asked sadly.

"Honestly," Harry thought for a second, "I can't say I do. But I'm not really offended by it. I mean I am sort of, but I know you still have my back at Hogwarts right?"

"Of course!" Blaise responded fiercely. "I know I should've told my mum Harry, and I know I'm going to have to eventually, but… It's just all my life I've seen people say things about my mother and maybe some of its true."

Harry for his part was shocked, Blaise had barely even acknowledged his mother's reputation before and he had certainly never admitted that it might be true.

"I've seen people say all these things about her and I seen how it hurts her. I love my mum Harry and I never want to be the one who hurts her," Blaise finished lamely.

"Do you really think this whole blood purity thing means all that much to her?" Harry ventured cautiously.

"She was married to Malfoy's uncle, what does that tell you?"

"Well not happily married," Harry quipped.

"That's not funny Harry," Blaise snapped with a distant look on his face.

"Sorry," Harry answered. "But I guess the real question is does the whole blood supremacy thing mean that much to you?" Harry had never asked Blaise about his view on the subject as he thought it best to let sleeping dogs lay, but now he felt like he needed to know.

"I don't know…" Blaise replied after a moment of thought, "I mean it used to… before you and Tracey. I guess its not so much blood that matter you know?"

"So you're ok with muggleborns?" That was not the Blaise that Harry knew from last year and so the answer had shocked him.

"Well it's not blood that's the issue, it's something else…" Blaise paused as he searched for the right words. "Look at Granger for example she gets better grades then me and most of the time she can get a spell down quicker than me. I mean if you just look at it like that I suppose you could say she's a better witch then I am a wizard."

"But?" Harry prodded.

"But she doesn't belong here," Blaise finished. "Being a witch or a wizard it's not really about magic. I mean look at Hogwarts, the Ministry, Diagon Alley all of that my ancestors built it, we… they created it… its ours."

"So if your parents weren't wizards you shouldn't be allowed in? You do know my mum was a muggleborn right?"

"It's not like that Harry," Blaise said desperately, "You're my friend."

"So no one's allowed in unless you personally approve of them?" In truth Harry wasn't mad, but interested in what Blaise truly thought.

"No Harry. Look at it like this, the Magical World was made for Wizards and Witches, everything about it from our sports to our laws are made for people like me. In the Muggle World everything is made for muggles and most of them are happy there. It's not that wizards are better than muggles, it's that we're different. I honestly wouldn't care if a muggleborn came to our world and was genuinely interested in our History, if they respected our culture, but most of them don't!"

"Give me an example," said Harry.

"Like I said take Granger, have you ever seen her in History of Magic? The way she gets so mad about the littlest things how she won't shut up about how shortsighted and prejudiced wizards were about goblins. Harry we had our first Female Minister of Magic in 1798! What was it like for women in the muggle world in 1798?"

"Not good," Harry conceded.

"And what about me?" Blaise continued getting steadily more worked up.

"What about you?" Harry asked in confusion

"I'm Black," Blaise stated simply. "My Great-Great-Great Grandfather came to Britain in the 1700s, and it didn't matter that he was black it only mattered that he was a wizard. My family has been here for almost 300 years Harry and in all that time us being black has never been an issue. So tell me how would that story have gone if we were muggles?" Blaise finished simply.

"Not very well," Harry admitted thinking of the BNP which had recently won its first council seat and had come frighteningly close to winning another in London.

"We have our problems I know that Harry," began Blaise, "but we have a strong culture and a lot to be proud of. But all most muggleborns do is complain about how a ballpoint pen is so much more convenient then a quill or laugh at us for wearing robes instead of jeans."

"I understand where you're coming from Blaise I really do, but not all muggleborns are like that," Harry replied soothingly.

"I know they're not, and there are some muggleborns who aren't so bad it's just that the majority of them want to force their way of life on us… I like my way of life Harry its… well its mine. And as far as you and Tracey go you're dads are both wizards this world is as much your birth right as it is mine. Heck I'm even ok with letting in a few muggleborns so long as they show our way of life the proper respect. It's just ones like Granger and that one Fitch-Fletchy kid… I think everyone… including them, would be a lot happier if they were with their own kind."

**("In my experince no one in this chamber cries out more about how they are being persecuted then pureblooded men with fat coin purses wearing the finest robes money can buy,"-Thomas Clark, first Muggleborn member of the Wizengamot)**

Storming out of the compartment had been a satisfyingly strong gesture for Tracey. And honestly it was probably best that she was far away from Blaise right now. She had been putting up with barbed comments and out right scolding from her entire family for ending up in Slytherin for nearly a year. No small amount of the comments had also been directed at her friendship with Blaise. She had defended him in front of her family and now he wouldn't even acknowledge her in front of his.

There was however one small problem with leaving the compartment. Tracey didn't really have any other friends. There was Daphne who Tracey got along with pretty well but she would be in pansy Parkinson's Compartment, and Tracey wanted no part of that group. As for everyone else… well Slytherins tended to avoid half-bloods and the rest of the school tended to avoid Slytherins. That of course left her with precious few options, besides hoping she'd come across an empty compartment. Of course even if by some stroke of luck she managed that there would be no one to talk to and all her books were locked in a compartment with Blaise and there was no way she was going back there. Resigning herself to a journey of staring out the window she opened the door to an empty compartment in the very back of the train.

"Oh sorry," she muttered once she realized that there was an occupant.

"It's ok you can come in" the girl inside replied.

"Er aren't you Hermione Granger?" Tracey asked the bushy haired girl.

"Yes I am," Hermione replied smiling, "I don't really remember your name though?"

"Tracey Davis, we had potions together…"

"Oh right… aren't you in Slytherin?" Hermione asked nervously.

**("She's been gone three whole hours... you don't think she's really mad do you?"- Blaise Zabini"**

"So how was the ride?" Tracey said nonchalantly as she squeezed in between Harry and Blaise at the welcoming feast.

"Bit boring after you left," Harry made it a point not to mention his discussion with Blaise as he knew it would only piss her off more.

"Yes I know I have a way of brightening up a room," Tracey said amicably. "I never got a chance to ask Blaise how was your summer?"

"You're talking to me?" Blaise responded in shock. "I thought you'd be mad at me for weeks."

"Oh I'm mad at you, but you're going through a tough time and I should be supportive," Tracey responded to the shock of both the boys.

"Where the hell is that coming from?" Harry asked surprised.

"I ran into Granger on the train we had a nice long chat and well she said some things and they made some sense, so I'm going to be supportive."

"What exactly did she say?" Blaise asked with an upraised eyebrow.

"Well she told me a story really."

"Please tell us," Harry said hopefully, "It's usually impossible to get you to stop sulking."

"Well apparently she had this Uncle Billy, bit of a queer little kid since birth you know? Never played any sports always seemed more interested in arts and acting in plays that sort of thing. Never really seemed to have a girlfriend always so much more interested in his little theater buddies. You know the sort," Tracey said with a limp wristed motion.

"Anyways once Billy went off to University he stopped calling the family and never showed up at Holidays. The times he was at home he always seemed distant you know, this went on for years, until Hermione was about six he barged in one Christmas and said something to the effect that he was tired of living a lie and that he was gay!"

"Well everyone just cracked up laughing and he of course couldn't understand why. But its obvious isn't it? They knew he was gay all along," Tracey said with a grin. "You see none of them cared that he was gay, because they loved him. Honestly I wish my family was more like hers," she finished with a small sigh.

"What does this have to do with anything?" Harry asked confused.

"Well after that story she told me that a parent's love is the most important thing to a child and that sometimes a child will go to any lengths to keep that love. She said that even though I was right to be mad at Blaise for not admitting the truth to his mother I should be supportive because coming out of the closet is a very hard thing to do and it requires a lot of courage and a lot of support," Tracey finished simply.

"Wait," Blaise said with a confused look on his face, "did you tell Granger I was gay?"

"What? No!" Tracey exclaimed, a grin spreading across her face. "I told her that you refused to tell your mother something really important and that I thought you were being a little girl about the whole thing. She filled in the gay bit on her own."

"I-I, I Can't believe you'd do something like that!" Blaise looked absolutely livid.

"Oh relax Granger's not so bad once you get to know her, I guarantee she won't tell a soul," Tracey said with a smile.

"Go to hell," Blaise muttered.

Harry for his part could only grin he had been genuinely scared that the whole incident might've broken up Tracey and Blaise's friendship but things seemed to be getting back to Normal.

**("Oh Potter... I was rather hoping we'd be spared your paticular stench this year."-Draco Malfoy)**

Herbology the first day back was a thoroughly horrific affair. Harry in general didn't like working with plants as it reminded him too much of all the weeding Petunia used to make him do. He generally tried to partner with Neville whenever he could as the Gryffindor was both an excellent Gardner and didn't seem to mind doing most of the work. It helped that Harry usually helped him with Charms in exchange.

That day however Harry had managed to sleep through his usual alarm and had arrived late forcing him to be paired with Fitch-Flecthy. The Hufflepuff boy wasn't a bad person, but he was no Neville when it came to plants and he seemed far to enamored with Lockhart for Harry's taste.

Later that day on his way to his first Defense class Harry couldn't help but get the eery feeling he was being followed. Looking around he saw a small boy in Gryffindor robes clutching what looked to be a muggle camera. The moment Harry met his eyes the boy blushed an interesting shade of crimson, before nervously edging forward.

"All right, Harry?' the boy began nervously. "I'm Colin Creevey…. Do you thuink it'd be alright if I could have your picture?" The boy raised his camera hopefully.

"A picture?" Tracey asked in disbelief from Harry's side.

"I-it's so I can prove I met him," Colin said addressing Harry. "I know all about you. Everyone's told me how you survived that night and how you got that scar," his eyes seemed to dart to Harry's forehead of their own accord. "My dad's a milkman you see and we never knew anything about magic till I got my Hogwarts letter and now I'm taking pictures so I can send them home to show him. A boy in my dormitory said if I put them in the right potion they'll move."

Blaise snorted at the boy's eagerness and Harry was uncomfortably reminded of what the black boy had said on the Hogwarts Express, he got the distinct impression that Colin was another one who Blaise felt should be among his own kind.

"Maybe your friend could take it and I could stand next to you," Colin plowed on apparently unaware of Blaise's feelings. "And then, maybe you could sign it?"

"Signed photos!?" Came Draco Malfoy's mocking voice from behind Colin. 'Everyone line up!" he continued with a look of relish, "Harry Potter's giving out signed photos!"

"No I'm not!" Harry snapped clenching his fist, Malfoy usually ignored Harry's existence this change of behavior was far from welcome.

"You're just jealous!" Colin piped up, which was rather brave of the boy considering that Crabbe and Goyle who had taken up flanking positions on Malfoy could've ripped the first year apart with their bare hands.

"Jealous?" Malfoy said as people in the courtyard began to look their way. "Of what? I like my face the way it is, thanks. I don't think getting your head cut open should be considered much of an honor personally."

"Shut up and mind your own businesses," Tracey said angrily.

"Why don't you take this one,: Malfoy said gesturing towards Creevey and go back where you both belong Davis?"

"Pick on someone your own size Malfoy," Tracey snapped as she reached for her wand.

"Look out!" Blaise whispered quietly.

"What's all this, What's all this?" Gilderoy Lockhart said striding up to the group who by this point were surrounded by a crowd of onlookers. "Whose giving out signed autographs?"

Harry began to speak but as soon as he saw him Lockhart flung his arm around the Slytherin and said "Harry Potter! Shouldn't have asked, I'm so glad to finally meet you. Gilderoy Lockhart, but you knew that of course."

"Come on then Creevy," Lockhart said with a winning smile, "a double portrait you can't do better than that! And we'll both sign it!"

Colin fumbled for his camera and took the picture just as the bell rang signaling the start of class.

"Off you go, off you go, move along there," Lockhart called to the departing crowd, nevertheless he refused to let go of Harry's arm. Blaise and Tracey could only give him sympathetic looks as they hurried off to their next class.

"You too Creevy we'll sign the photo once you have it developed." Colin for his part suddenly seemed more interested in Tracey's departing rear then he was in Harry or Lockhart. Nevertheless the boy quickly walked away leaving the two alone.

"A word to the wise Harry," Lockhart said to Harry paternally once the crowd had vanished. "I covered up for you there with young Creevey, if your schoolmates saw that he photographing me too they wouldn't think you were setting yourself up so much…"

"Well actually sir," Harry began only for Lockhart to cut him off.

"Now, now, now my boy there's no need to explain yourself to me! I understand the allure of fame all too well myself. But let me tell you something Harry it's not all its cracked up to be. Oh sure its nice to have meals on the house, or to be thanked for your services in the streets… and the women… there nice too… but sometimes, you almost wish you could feel normal sometimes," Lockhart finished with a feigned look of wistfulness.

Harry for his own part was struck speechless by the utter fakeness of what Lockhart had just said.

"In any case Harry handing out signed autographs at this stage of your career looks… well if you don't mind me saying it, a tad bigheaded, no?"  
>"I don't really have a career," Harry said in annoyance.<p>

"Well not yet no," Lockhart said mistaking Harry's disgust for envy, "but give it time my boy, give it time."

**(Fame is the worst curse known to man my boy! Imagine throngs of adoring fans following you everwhere! Women just throwing themselves at you! It's terrible Harry, simply terrible but I suppose it's our cross to bear."- Gilderoy Lockhart)**

"Can you believe him?" Harry asked Blaise and Tracey as he finished relating to them Lockhart's words. "As if I was some fame hungry teenager."

"He is a bit full of himself," Tracey said in agreement.

"Why aren't you Lockhart crazy like all the other women around here?" Blaise asked curiously.

"He's just not my type I suppose… bit of a dandy really," she finished with a shrug.

"That's a bad thing?" Blaise asked, he was after all more of a metrosexual then any twelve year old had a right being.

"Not for most girls clearly, but I don't know I was always raised to believe that a man was at his most gorgeous when he was covered in scars and limping," Tracey answered with a wistful look.

"Well that's just disturbing…" commented Harry.

"I don't know there's just something manly about a wound."

"Seek help," Blaise said with a look of disgust. "But you know Harry, Lockhart did bring up something I've been wondering about for a while… Have you ever considered you know… using your fame."

"No." Harry replied curtly.

"Why not?" Tracey asked, "I mean it would be nice to get recognize on occasion wouldn't it?"

"Fame isn't all everyone thinks it is," Harry answered carefully. "I've been different all my life, honestly I'd rather be just Harry for a change."

"Yes Harry, you can be the most normal boy wizard in all the world you and your broomstick," Tracey said sarcastically.

"Well it's normal for some people," Blaise muttered under his breath, luckily Tracey didn't hear him.

"You're not normal Harry get over it and use it to your advantage," Tracey said matter of factly.

"You don't get it," Harry snapped back. "It's like people expect all of these great things out of me because of something I can't even remember. And honestly I don't even think it would feel right profiting over my parents death."

That ended the conversation rather quickly as neither Blaise nor Tracey enjoyed being around a sulky Harry.

**("I was never born great! No I had to work for it! Well except for my charming smile I was actually born with that."- Gilderoy Lockhart**

_Dear Harry, _

_I find your estimate of Gilderoy Lockhart to be spot on. He was always something of a pompous attention hound even when I taught him. Self-promotion isn't a bad trait but Gilderoy was always something of a bragger, which is surprising since in his school days he had very little to brag about. How such a talentless child emerged into the man he apparently is today I will never know. He still is rather insufferable though. Why I ran into him at a benefit for Saint Mungos last year and he had the gall to suggest that he had perfected a potion to cure curse inflicted baldness… refused to divulge the secret of course. _

_But enough of Gilderoy I am far more worried by your hostility to your fame. I assure you that I understand your motivations but I cannot help but feel that you are being shortsighted. You, Harry, have been blessed with a truly great power. Due to the unfortunate events of your past people listen to you. _

_You have the ability to do immeasurable good in this world with just a few short words and you would throw that all away for normalcy? Many of the evils in this world exist not because of the Dark Lord and his ilk but because good people like you Harry refuse to act. _

_If you will allow me to provide an example I sit on a board of for a charity by the name of Hopping Pot and Helping Hands. The Charity among other thinks provides medicinal potions to poor children and occasionally provides scholarships to underprivileged youths hoping to become potioneers. In recent years the charity has been seeing less and less donations and has been forced to scale back operations. _

_If you would agree to attend our annual fundraising dinner we would sell at least double what we made last year from people eager to be in the same room as you. And your mere presence would guarantee coverage by the Daily Prophet and the WWN, which in turn would lead to a higher profile for the charity and more donations as a result. _

_If you would rather not make your support so public then even having you be the guest of honor at a private dinner would be helpful. Affluent people would gladly pay 300 Galleons to sit at the same table as the Boy-Who-Lived. 300 Galleons from 10 guests, means 3,000 Galleons worth of medicine going to needy families. _

_In short Harry you have the power to fix so many wrongs in this world to help so many people that too surrender it all in some quest for normalcy… well it'd be downright cruel. And of course mine is not the only cause that needs a patron. I implore you look at the the Daily Prophet over breakfast tomorrow morning and tell me that there is not one story you'd like to fix? Not one law being debated that you'd like to see passed or defeated? You have that power, and to throw it all away would be such a waste. _

_I know you feel that to profit from your parents deaths would be wrong, and I understand that sentiment. However if you won't use your fame for your own good then I implore you to use it for the good of others. I know it's what your mother would have wanted. _

_I dearly hope that I have not offended you Harry as that was never my intention. If you should choose not to heed my advice then I shall of course understand and support you in any course of action. _

_Your Friend,_

_Horace Slughorn_

**("Et Tu Marcus...?"- Harry Potter)**

"Potter I need to talk to you," Marcus Flint said gruffly one day as Harry stepped through the entrance into the Slytherin Common Room.

"Er yeah sure Marcus," Harry had always been a little intimidated by the larger boy who had a rather violent reputation. Most chasers were small to maximize their speed Marcus however was a hulking mass of muscle. His game didn't rely on speed but rather brute force, something which he carried into all other aspects of life.

As Marcus lead Harry away from the main section of the Common Room and into the hall reserved for older student's private studies Harry desperately searched his mind for any list of possible offences he could have committed.

"The truth is Potter there's no easy way to say this," Marcus began once they were far enough away from prying ears. "After dinner yesterday Professor Snape and I went on an alumni visit to Malfoy Manner."

Harry for his part had no idea what Malfoy had to do with anything but he had the sinking feeling that he wasn't going to like it.

"Long story short Lucius Malfoy is willing to buy Nimbus 2001s for the entire team, the only catch is that his son has to be made seeker."

"Oh," Harry, had been practically promised the position last year and he had been looking forward to playing. Anger and disappointment battled within his mind as he contemplated this turn of events.

"I hope you realize I don't like this anymore then you do Potter," Flint said. Harry at this point began to tune the older boy out as he balled his hands up into a fist. He couldn't believe it, he had been the best candidate for the position everyone knew that but instead he'd been by passed for Malfoy just because of money.

"I wouldn't have agreed to it, but you know as well as I do that unless we get some sort of speed advantage the Gryffindor Chasers are going to slaughter us," Flint continued. Harry was on the verge of saying something he'd assuredly regret when Marcus fidgeted. It was such a small thing that Harry was shocked he noticed, but it caused him to think for a second… was Flint nervous?

Once he noticed it, it was impossible for Harry not to notice, the way the boy refused to meet Harry's eyes, the way his hands were fiddling in his pockets… Marcus Flint the most brutal Hogwarts Quidditch player in recent memory was nervous about kicking a second year off the team. The whole idea seemed almost laughable to Harry, but the facts were there plain as day. The only question was why?

As Flint continued to prattle on about strategy Harry mentally called up everything he knew about the boy. Besides his rough play nothing had ever stuck out before but now Harry remembered several things at once for one Marcus Flint was honest. In all of Slytherin Marcus was one of the few people who always spoke the truth, in the past Harry had always chalked it up to the boy being… well dumb. There was something else that occurred to Harry, Marcus Flint was loyal. The older boy took every slight against Slytherin as a personal insult and he had been known to put people in the Hospital Wing for so much as looking at a Slytherin Player wrong. Was it possible, just possible that the most violent Slytherin had a set of morals?

Given what Harry knew about Marcus it was a ridiculous idea but before he could even think about he reacted. "It's okay Marcus," he said cutting the older boy off midsentence, "you did what was best for the team I understand."

The look of relief on Flint's face was unmistakable. "Thanks Potter," the older boy said with genuine feeling, "I'm glad you see it that way…. Listen just because you're not the seeker doesn't mean you can't be on the team. I don't have any frontline places but the rules say I can have a reserve chaser."

"Thanks Marcus but I'm not a chaser," Harry said graciously declining the offer.

"You could be," Flint responded quickly, "You're about the right size and you're one of the best fliers I've ever seen. We'll have to work on your throwing arm, but I've seen a lot worse at the start… Listen Potter you're a better flyer then Malfoy any day and I'd hate to lose you. Play in the reserves for a year and I'll find you a place on the main squad next year when Harrison and Boyle graduate I promise."

Much to his own surprise Harry found himself agreeing.

**("What did you think they were just going to let you on the quidditch team cause you're the best flier? This isn't Gryffindor!"-Blaise Zabini)**

_Dear Harry, _

_Since when have you known Horace Slughorn? The man's a legend in Slytherin House; there must be at least three Department Heads in the Ministry who got their job cause of him. Having him as a reference on an application can open more doors then a Gringotts Goblin. _

_And he's right you know. I heard that whole speech about how you want to be 'just Harry,' and I hate to break it to you but that's never going to happen. You'll be the Harry Potter until the day you die whether you like it or not. Every job you get won't be because of your skill it'll be because you're Harry Potter, and there's a significant chance that half the girls you date will only go out with you because you're Harry Potter. _

_I realize that's not the most cheerful thing in the world but if you can't avoid your fame then you should atleast try and do something positive with it. _

_Oh and about Flint. Don't let his violent, brutish exterior fool you underneath that outer layer there's a violent brutish interior as well. _

_Sincerely, _

_T. Higgs _

**("Quidditch like life requires cunning, a trait some people... lack,"-Draco Malfoy)**

The morning the Slytherin Team's new brooms arrived was a less then good one for Harry. For one Snape had insisted on giving the team a lecture on treating the brooms properly as they were technically the property of Slytherin House. Snape chose to ignore Harry's presence; the rumor around the common room was that Snape had been all for cutting Harry from the team completely but that Flint had talked him out of it. Harry for one didn't believe that anyone could talk Snape out of anything but he knew there was no love lost between him and the potions master.

After Snape was done talking Flint launched into his own lecture on proper broom maintenance, the older boy's apparent fascination with the subject bordered on obsessive. it was only fear of their Captain that kept most of the squad awake.

After an hour of it however Flint finally let up and allowed the team to open their new brooms. It was a highly awkward moment for Harry and the two other reserves who weren't full members of the team and therefore could only stare in envy at the new brooms. Malfoy caught Harry's jealous look and seemed about to make a snide comment when a look from Flint shut him up.

The new brooms seemed to be all anyone could talk about as the team made their way to the pitch. Harry could of course understand the sentiment but it still irked him to see the rest of the team gather around and praise Malfoy. There wasn't a soul on the team except perhaps Draco that didn't think Harry was a better flier, but none of that mattered because Draco was the better Slytherin. When faced with a stronger opponent he had fought dirty and if that wasn't Slytherin then what was?

Harry soon became lost in his fantasies of punching Malfoy in the face as the team made their way towards the stadium. He was so distracted that he didn't even notice that the Gryffindor Team was up and Flying around the pitch as the he walked in.

"Clear off Flint!" Oliver Wood bellowed as he landed his broom in front of the Slytherins. "This is Gryffindor practice time, I booked it with Madame Hooch weeks ago."

"The pitch is big enough for the all of us, Wood," Flint said with a ferocious grin. If Flint was intimidated by the rest of the Gryffindor team landing behind wood he didn't show it. Harry on the other hand blushed a bright scarlet when a rather pretty brunette had landed in front of him, she was a chaser if he remembered right.

"I booked it!" Wood screeched in objection to Flint. "I booked it!" He repeated as if shocked that a Slytherin would dare to break the rules.

"About that," Flint said with a smug smile, "I have special permission to use the pitch today, straight from Professor Snape. We need to train up our new seeker after all."

"You have a new seeker?" Wood asked, "Where?"

Flint merely smiled and gestured in Draco's direction. Malfoy for his part wore the biggest shit eating grin Harry had ever seen.

"Aren't you Lucius Malfoy's son?" asked one of the Weasley twins.

"Funny you should mention Draco's Father, he's just made a rather big donation to the School," Flint said with a shit eating grin that almost beat Malfoy's. "Let me show you," and with that he held up his new Nimbus 2001 for Oliver to inspect. "Very latest model you know, beats out the old one by quite a far margin I hear."

Harry for his part self-consciously fiddled with his Nimbus 2000 which he had managed to get cheap once the newer model had come out.

"And as for the cleansweeps," Flint continued eyeing the Weasley's brooms, "well it sweeps the board with them."

The Gryffindor's could only look on in envy completely lost for words. Malfoy practically preened as if Flint had been praising him instead of what his money had bought.

"Oh look a field invasion," Flint said sarcastically as three figures made their way towards the gathering. Ron's flaming Red Hair was unmistakable as was Hermione's bushy mane. Trailing behind them was a rather out of breath Colin Creevy, his camera around his neck.

"What's happening? Ron asked his brother stupidly. "What's he doing here," there was no small amount of venom in the redheads voice as he looked at Draco.

"I'm the new seeker Weasley," said Malfoy smugly, "and everyone is just admiring the brooms my father bought our team."

Ron like the rest of the Gryffindors could only stare in astonishment at the seven superb broomsticks.

"Like them do you?" Malfoy prompted. "Maybe you lot could raffle off those old cleansweeps and buy some of your own, I bet a museum would be interested."

The Gryffindors snarled in rage and the Slytherins howled in laughter, Harry joined in with the Slytherins more out of obligation then anything else.

"Atleast everyone on the Gryffindor team got in on talent instead of their daddies money," Hermione voiced what Harry had been silently thinking.

Malfoy snarled. "Who asked you mudblood," he spat.

Harry instantly knew that Draco had made a mistake and a rather bad at one at that. The entire Gryffindor team snarled and Flint had to step in front of Malfoy to protect him from the twins who looked positively murderous.

"How dare you!" Shrieked one of the Gryffindor chasers.  
>Ron plunged his hand into his robes and withdrew his wand. "You'll pay for that one Malfoy!" he screamed as he furiously aimed his wand under Flint's arm and directly at Malfoy's face. Suddenly a jet of green light flew out of the end and hit Malfoy straight in the nose.<p>

For a second Harry thought the spell had been a dud and then he saw Malfoy dry heave, once, twice and then to everyone's horror Draco began puking out slugs. Flint snarled and the Boyle and Derrick the two beaters snatched up their clubs and made to charge at the Gryffindors who all began reaching for their own wands.

Acting quickly Harry pointed his wand at Ron. "_Expelliarmus._" in all the commotion no one except Ron noticed that he had been disarmed. At nearly the same time Harry rushed to Flint's said and whispered so only the Captain could hear him, "not now."

That simple reminder of the situation was enough to snap Flint back to reality. The brutish boy wanted to rip Ron limb from limb for injuring one of his players but an all-out brawl between the two teams could result in both their disqualifications. Flint put his hands up and blocked both Boyle and Derrick from advancing any further.

Wood who probably had much the same thoughts as Flint followed his example and blocked the twins who had been advancing on the Slytherin team. "Let's go!" Wood said forcefully.

"But Oliver!" one of the chasers protested fingering her wand.

"I said let's go!" Oliver repeated himself and this time his team listened.

"Bastards," muttered one of the twins before he followed.

"We'll get them for that," Flint said forcefully once the Gryffindors were out of earshot. "As soon as they're less witnesses." The rest of the Slytherins muttered there assent. "You alright Malfoy?" Flint asked the boy who had been steadily puking up more and more slugs.

"I-" Draco tried to say before another torrent of slime escaped his mouth.

"Right," Flint said getting back into the groove of things, "Warrington take him to the Hospital Wing everyone else mount up.

"I got to give Weasley his wand back," Harry protested holding up Ron's wand.

"Let him squirm without it!" Flint snarled.

"I rather not have to explain that to Professor Snape," Harry replied evenly.

"Fine, be up in five minutes though."

Harry nodded in agreement before he began jogging after the Gryffindors. "Ron your wand!" he called as he came up on them.

"What the hell was that about!" Ron snapped at Harry, "I could've taken Malfoy."

"Don't be an idiot mate," Harry said soothingly. "I don't think anyone wanted an all-out riot on the pitch." Harry's relationship was Ron wasn't close but it was friendly.

"You didn't have to take his wand!" Hermione said glaring at Harry.

"I had to stop him from hitting Malfoy again before things got serious!" Harry defended himself.

"So what if things had gotten serious?" One of the twins asked hefting his beater's bat as if he would very much like to crush Harry's skull with it.

"I didn't see you jumping to Hermione's defense," said the Black chaser with a sneer.

"I do have to live with those people you know!" Harry snapped back.

"Well go live with them then!" Hermione said in disgust as she turned on her heels and stormed away. The rest of the Gryffindors weren't far behind. Ron gave Harry a half way apologetic look before following.

It's often been said that no good deed goes unpunished and Harry's was no exception. He hadn't been in the castle for more than two minutes before Professor Snape descended upon him. "My office now!"

"Yes sir," Harry replied meekly as he followed the Professor down to the potions classroom. Harry had always had as little interaction with Snape as possible, something about the potions master had always given Harry the creeps. Although the man had rarely spoken to him, he had a habit of glaring at him during class, as if Harry had wronged the Professor in the past. This had not been lost on the other students either, and as often as he had been asked about the the apparent hostility Harry could give no answers.

"I do not appreciate being interrupted in the middle of breakfast to be told that you've assaulted another student in front of nearly twenty witnesses Mr. Potter!" Snape snapped once they had reached his office.

"I didn't assault anyone Professor!" in it's own way that was true, he had after all only disarmed Ron.

"As much as I detest Gryffindors, I find it hard to believe that nine of them would all tell the same lie. They are after all not known for their acting abilities."

"Ron attacked Malfoy I just disarmed him,"

"Oh I'm sure you had nothing but the noblest intentions Mr. Potter," Snape's voice dripped sarcasm. "Rushing to Mr. Malfoy's defense like that it was all quite heroic. But I know you better than that, you were out to draw ever more attention on to yourself. The situation was already highly charged by assaulting Mr. Weasley you very nearly turned a small scuffle into an all out riot!"

"but-!" H

"I suppose you would've like that though Mr. Potter, you leading the charge to restore Slytherin's honor I imagine it would've made you quite the hero among those imbeciles you call friends."

"If Ron had tried to curse Malfoy again there really would've been a riot sir!" Harry protested, "I had to stop that."

"If you had simply let matters be it's entirely possible that I could've forced Gryffindor to forfeit the match. Instead I'll be forced to punish you."

For his part Harry couldn't believe how ridiculous the situation was, but he knew that Snape hated him so, perhaps he should've seen it coming.

As far as punishments went Harry's wasn't all that bad. After years of keeping Number 4 spotless polishing a few old trophies the muggle way wasn't horrendous. Admittedly missing the Halloween feast irked him, but it could've been worse, as Filch kept telling him and Ron, who was serving his own detention.

"Oh in the old days we would have you strung up by your thumbs for days on end!" the old man screeched with glee on his face. "Oh I remember the screams!"

Harry wasn't quite sure what was wrong with the elderly caretaker but he got the distinct impression that in the muggle world he wouldn't be allowed within a hundred yards of a school.

"Mrs. Norris!" the caretaker suddenly called, "where are you my sweet?" The cat didn't answer. "Come here my sweet," the caretaker called again as he left the room. Slowly but surely his calls faded away in the distance.

"Bloody barmy that one," Ron said in disgust as soon as he was sure he couldn't be overheard.

"He's a bit strange," Harry agreed.

"Mental's what he is!"

_"… rip… tear… kill…"_

Harry's head instantly jerked around and he stared intensly at the wall, his heart pounding. Although he had never heard that voice before he felt a terror wash over him.

"Harry?"

But Harry had ears for only one voice.

_"… rip… tear… kill…"_

"Harry!?" Ron demanded more forcefully this time.

"Shut up!" Harry snapped back, "don't you hear that?"

_"… soo hungry… for so long…"_

"This way!" Harry said before running out of the trophy room and down a flight of stairs. If he had more time to think he might've realized how stupid it was to follow the voice, but his legs seemed to move of their own accord.

_"… kill… time to kill…"_

"Listen!"

"Harry! There's nothing there," Ron seemed almost as afraid of Harry's behavior as Harry was of the voice.

"SHH!"

Harry strained his ears. from the floor below, and growing louder still, he heard the

voice: _"… I smell blood… I SMELL BLOOD!"  
><em>"It's going to kill!" Harry yelled as he tore down the staircase to the second floor and around the corner. The voice had abruptly stopped and with no more clues Harry paused to catch his breath.

"Harry, what was that all about?" said Ron, wiping sweat off his face. "I couldn't hear

anything…"

"I-I don't…" Harry began before a glimmer of red caught his eye. "Look."

They approached slowly, squinting through the darkness. Foot-high words had been daubed on the wall between two windows, shimmering in the light cast by the flaming torches.

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED.

ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE

"What's that thing, hanging underneath?" said Ron, a slight quiver in his voice.

As they edged nearer, Harry almost slipped; there was a large puddle of water on the floor;

Ron grabbed him, and they inched toward the message, eyes fixed on a dark shadow beneath it. They realized what it was at once, and leapt backward with a splas**h**.

Mrs. Norris, the caretaker's cat, was hanging by her tail from the torch bracket. She was stiff as a board, her eyes wide and staring.

For a few seconds, they didn't move. Then Ron said, "Let's get out of here."

"Shouldn't we try and help," Harry began awkwardly.

"Trust me," said Ron. "We don't want to be found here."

But it was too late. A rumble, as though of distant thunder, told them that the feast had just ended. From either end of the corridor where they stood came the sound of hundreds of feet climbing the stairs, and the loud, happy talk of well-fed people; next moment, students were crashing into the passage from both ends.

The chatter, the bustle, the noise died suddenly as the people in front spotted the hanging cat. Harry and Ron stood alone, in the middle of the corridor, as silence fell among the mass of students pressing forward to see the grisly sight.

Then someone shouted through the quiet.

"Enemies of the Heir, beware! You'll be next, Mudbloods!"

**A/N** originally I planned to release The Chamber of Secrets as One large chapter but it felt right to split it up here. This Chapters actually been done for about a month but I was hoping to realease both halves of the story at the same time, unfortunately it hasn't worked out that way. I'm 8,000 words into the second half of this book and I'm hoping for it to be ready by New Years.


	3. Year II Part II: The Serpent Guard

**Disclaimer: **This chapter and the story it is a part of it was not written in the hopes of profiting from its sale or distribution. At current I have never and have no plans in the future of receiving monetary compensation for this work. And I certainly do not own Harry Potter or any other related titles.

**Acknowledgement: **Parts of this chapter and indeed all chapters in this story were lifted word from word from the Harry Potter series. These parts are small segments only and are there to provide context to my own changes to the plot. All credit for these segments go to JKR, who deserves unmitigated praise for being one of the finest authors of our time.

**Beta: **This will be the first chapter that's had the benefit of a beta reader, so special thanks go out to **Snakefang93** for all his contributions on the direction of the story.

A True Slytherin Book II, Chapter II:

Or Harry Potter and The Serpent Guard

For a few days, the school could talk of little else but the attack on Mrs. Norris. Filch kept it fresh in everyone's minds by pacing the spot where she had been attacked, as though he thought the attacker might come back. Harry had seen him scrubbing the message on the wall with Mrs. Skower's All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover, but to no effect; the words still gleamed as brightly as ever on the stone. When Filch wasn't guarding the scene of the crime, he was skulking red-eyed through the corridors, lunging out at unsuspecting students and trying to put them in detention for things like "breathing loudly' and "looking happy."

Filch was far from the only one obsessed with the mystery. A week after the attack Neville dropped an enormous flower pot just as the bell rang to dismiss them from Herbology. Harry as his partner was forced to stay behind and help clean up. Truthfully Harry didn't mind as the Neville was probably the only reason Harry was getting an E in the class he was allowed to be clumsy sometimes.

"Thanks," Neville said as Harry helped him sweep the potting soil into a dust bin.

"No problem mate," Harry replied as Sprout walked off to tend to an ailing bush in a different greenhouse.

"People are talking," Neville said as soon as he was sure they were alone.

"People tend to do that," Harry shrugged completely missing the implications of what Neville had just said.

"No, Harry they're talking about you."

"What do you mean?"

"They're saying you're the Heir," Neville whispered glancing over his shoulder.

"Then they're bonkers," Harry tried to keep a brave face but he felt a chill creep up his spine. "I don't hate muggleborns."

"Listen I know that Harry, but not everyone else does. And when you look at the evidence…"

"What are you trying to say?" Harry voice rose dangerously.

"I'm trying to say that someone who doesn't know you might jump to the wrong conclusions. I mean look at the facts, you don't really have any muggleborn friends do you?"

"Well no, but it's not like there are a whole lot of muggleborns in Slytherin."

"Point taken, but that's another nail in the coffin for you Harry, you're probably the most recognizable Slytherin in Hogwarts."

"Not all Slytherins are evil."

"No, but it's not like the Heir of Slytherin is going to be in Gryffindor is it? And the whole school knows that you stood up for Malfoy after Ron cursed him."

"I did what I had to do, and Ron's already forgotten about the whole thing." Then Harry suddenly remembered something he should've thought of a lot sooner. "Ron! He was with me the entire time, they have to know I couldn't have done it."

"I know that Harry, and Ron's already said as much, but a lot of people think that if your capable of doing that to Mrs. Norris then messing with Ron's head would be child's play in comparison."

"I'm just a second year," Harry protested. "There's no way I could even attempt that sort of magic.

"You defeated You-Know-Who when you were a baby, the normal rules clearly don't apply to you."

"But I'm a half-blood and everyone knows it!" harry exclaimed. "It's not like I could become a blood purist even if I wanted to."

"My Gran always used to tell me about the Death Eaters they caught after the war, a lot of 'em had muggles in the woodpile if you catch my drift."

"Well let them think what they want to then," Harry said with a lot more confidence then he felt. He might've been an outcast in the muggle world but he was vaguely popular at Hogwarts and he liked it that way.

"Harry if it was just people talking then I wouldn't have even brought it up… It's just that if this whole thing keeps up, I'm scared some idiot is going to try and become the one who caught the heir…"

**("A truly wise man will stamp out a conflict before it begins."- Professor Phineas Nigellus Black)**

Harry didn't know exactly how many people believed he was the Heir but after listening to Neville he could see how he would be a suspect. That in mind he thought it might be best to befriend one of the muggleborn students. Even to his own mind the idea of making friends with someone solely so others wouldn't suspect him seemed foolish, but he couldn't help but remember Neville's parting words.

His opportunity came later in the month when he found Hermione sitting at her usual table in the library pouring over a tome that seemed to be bigger than her. Hermione probably wouldn't have been Harry's first choice, but he knew that both Tracey and Neville thought highly of her. That and although he hadn't set out to exclude muggleborns from his friend group he was rapidly realizing that he didn't really know any.

"Hey Hermione… You don't happen to remember the homework assignment from  
>Potions do you?" Harry said lamely searching for an excuse to talk to her.<p>

"Harry!" she squeaked her eyes going as wide as she discreetly moved the large book to cover up the parchment she had been scribbling on.

"You ok, Granger?"

He had rarely spoken to Hermione in the past but on the few occasions he had, she hadn't acted like this.

"J-Just fine," she squeaked franticly gathering her papers and books. "You know actually I think, I need to run to the loo."

Throwing the last of the books into her bag she began to walk away at a clipped pace. That was when harry noticed the bit of parchment she had been scribbling on when he arrived was still laying on the table.

"Wait Hermione, you forgot this," Harry called out before he could stop himself. As he reached for the paper to hand it back to her something odd struck him. The paper was very clearly a family tree and at first he didn't think much of it, but as he glanced closer he saw the name Potter. Then it dawned upon this was not a family tree, it was _his_ family tree.

There at the bottom was his name. His Mother's name simply had Muggleborn written next to it. His father's however had the name of Charlus Potter and Dorea Black written upon it. Each with two names up through what must have been ten generations. At the very top a man named Ademar Potter was shown as marrying an Adela Peverell.

"T-thank you Harry," Hermione stuttered, her hand firmly prying the parchment from his grasp, before she made an exit, at a pace barely slower than an all-out run.

Harry for his part could only stare after her too stunned to speak. He had known that other suspected him of being the Heir but the thought that someone was actually trying to prove it was frightening.

He was broken out of his reverie by the the sound of cracking knuckles. He whirled around to see a couple older Gryffindors boys with looks of pure loathing on their faces. They had probably seen the whole thing. Harry didn't hang around to find out.

**("Of course even the best laid plans often backfire terribly."-****Professor Phineas Nigellus Black)**

Later that day Harry found his friends sitting in an empty corner of the Slytherin Common Room and told them what had happened.

"I don't understand what Granger could've possibly thought she'd find in a genealogy book," Blaise said in disgust. "If it was that easy to prove who the heir was Dumbledore would've done it by now."

"A lot of the times smart people just forget other people are smart too," Harry replied his voice a lot calmer then he was.

"I just want to tear that little bitch's eyes out," Tracey said fingering her wand dangerously. Any feelings of friendship she might've felt towards Hermione had apparently been forgotten in favor of protecting Harry.

"You don't think she found anything do you?" Harry asked quietly.

"There's nothing to find!" Tracey snapped angrily, "you're not the heir."

"How far back did you say she got?" Blaise asked leaning forward.

"The 15th Century, Peverell or something I think."

"Well then yes," Blaise answered carefully. "She probably thinks she found something."

"What!?" Tracey snapped.

"Well honestly Wizarding genealogy is more of a fairy tale than anything else," Blaise explained. "You all know how important ancestry is to a lot of people with money, well if you didn't have enough wizards in your family tree, or if you just wanted to pretend you were the heir of someone famous you just forged in a couple of connections here and there."

"What are you trying to say?" Harry asked leaning in closer.

"The Peverells were one of the oldest families in Britain before they died out," Blaise continued. "If I remember right they even gave Hogwarts a loan when it was first starting out. And since the male line died out in the 16th Century they've been one of the more popular families to claim a connection to."

"What does that have to do with Harry being the Heir?"

"Well the reason people always claim to be descended from them is because legend holds that when Salazar left Hogwarts Cadmus Peverell granted him lands and titles…. And well Cadmus's wife was famed for her beauty… and you guys can fill in the rest…" Blaise finished lamely.

"But won't Hermione notice that everyone claims to be descended from them?" harry asked. He was thinking a lot of uncharitable thoughts about the bushy haired girl but even he couldn't doubt she was smart.

"Well all that stuff about families faking their linage isn't written down anywhere. After all the sort of people who own publishing houses were exactly the sort of people who faked their own lineage," Blaise answered after some thought. "I mean the only reason I know about it, is because my family did it too."

"It's not like Hermione has many pureblood friends," Tracey said uncertainly.

"Or friends at all," Harry muttered under his breath.

"And even if she did know it… well it's not proof that you are descended from Slytherin, but it certainly doesn't help the case that you're not," Blaise finished carefully.

"Just great," Harry muttered.

**("A damn silly games, played by damn silly men." Madame Pomfrey)**

The day of the first Quidditch match of the season was almost as gloomy as Harry was. He didn't quite feel like watching Malfoy catch the Snitch from the sidelines, and he was sure that Malfoy would catch the snitch. He might've thought that he was the better seeker but even he had to admit that Malfoy was passably good. The Gryffindor seeker on the other hand was rumored to play with all the finesse and grace of a legally blind mountain troll.

"I hope you're ready to fly Potter!" Marcus snapped when harry walked into the changing room.

"What?" Harry asked dumly. As a reserve the chances he would see any flight time were next to zero.

"Apparently Harrison ate something that disagreed with him," Marcus's lip curled in disgust. "You'll be taking his place."

"Poor sod hasn't stopped puking all night," Pucey the other chaser told Harry once Marcus was out of earshot.

"All right lads, no point in denying it without Harrison, are chasers are going to be pretty weak," Marcus said to start the meeting. "Potter you're a good flier but not good enough to make a first string chaser and you haven't trained enough with me and Pucey to fit into our patterns. Just keep your head on and don't screw up."

"Bletchly," Marcus said to the keeper. "The Gryffindors are going to be coming strong and fast, we're counting on you to keep the score down."

"Beaters, I want you to knock one of their chasers out as soon as possible."

"And Malfoy, for Merlin's sake catch the damn snitch early!"

As they walked out onto the pitch, the roar of noise greeting them was primarily boos. Nothing new with that Slytherin had been the most hated house for quite a few centuries. Even so the their housemates in the stands made their cheers known. Madam Hooch, the Quidditch referee, asked Flint and Wood to shake hands, which they did, giving each other threatening stares and gripping rather harder than was necessary.

"On my whistle," said Madam Hooch. "Three… two… one…"

With a roar from the crowd to speed them upward, the fourteen players rose toward the leaden sky. Johnson from Gryffindor got the Qauffle first; Marcus took off after her while Harry shadowed the youngest Gryffindor chaser, Katie Bell.

Before Harry knew it Pucey intercepted a pass from Johnson to Spinnet and tore off in towards the Gryffindor goal posts.

Harry with his smaller frame and newer broom easily outpaced Bell as he tore off after Pucey.

Flint wasn't so lucky, unlike most chasers he relayed on power not speed. Despite a faster broom Johnson managed to keep him in check.

Pucey seeing Harry open threw the Quaffle in his direction, after months of practice Harry caught it without a second thought. His way towards the goals was clear, with just Wood standing between him and the first score of his career. The older boy however was no slouch and Harry knew it. He feinted right but at the last second rolled his broom to the side and made to throw for the leftmost hoop. He cocked his arm back to throw knowing that there was no way Wood would be able to block in time.

WHAM! 

It took all of Harry's strength to stay on the broom as the bludger impacted from behind. It took him only a second to recover but that second was more than enough for Bell to come from behind and knock the Quaffle from his grasp.

"Sorry 'bout that mate," One of the Slytherin beaters called as he chased after the Quaffle.

Harry however was already zooming in pursuit of Bell. Before he could catch up to her she passed to Spinnet. And Harry wasn't quite sure what happened next as he heard the telltale whistle of the bludger behind him.

Without time to think he reacted on instinct and rolled his broom over upside down. It was a very near miss and he could feel the wind of its passage.

He rolled back up in time to see Flint steal the Quaffle and 'accidently,' shove Johnson off course while he was at it.

Harry reacted fast and took off towards the Gryffindor end Bell in hot pursuit. Then suddenly he saw a brown blur to his left. Knowing that it must be a bludger he climbed and avoided it so narrowly that he felt the rustle of its passage on the back of his neck.

"Close one, Potter!" said Philips, streaking past him with his club in his hand, ready to knock the Bludger back toward a Gryffindor. Harry saw Philips give the Bludger a powerful whack in the direction of Johnson, but the Bludger changed direction in midair and shot straight for Harry again.

Harry dropped quickly to avoid it, and Philips managed to hit it hard toward Spinnet. Once again, the Bludger swerved like a boomerang and shot at Harry's head.

Harry with a sinking feeling in his chest put on a burst of speed towards the other side of the pitch and sure enough the Bludger took off after him.

Rufus King, the other beater, was waiting for the Bludger at the far end. Harry ducked as King swung at the Bludger with all his might; the Bludger was knocked off course.

"That'll fix it!" King yelled happily, but he was wrong; as though it was magnetically attracted to Harry, the Bludger changed course and pelted after him once more and Harry was forced to fly off at full speed.

It had started to rain; Harry felt heavy drops fall onto his face, splattering onto his glasses. He'd practically abandoned any attempt to do his actual job and was instead merely running away from the Bludger. King had stayed by his side, but despite the large boy's best efforts the mad Bludger continued its attack. Finally noticing that he was down a chaser Flint called a timeout.

"Potter! What the hell is going on out there?" Marcus demanded as the team went into a huddle on the sidelines.

"It's not his fault," King spoke up before Harry could. "Something's off with that damn Bludger it hasn't left him alone all game."

"The Gryffindors must have tampered with it," Philips put in.

"They had the balls for practice last," added Pucey. "And on top of that I've known Harrison for four years and he's never been sick before today."

"That's not like the Gryffindors at all," Bletchly answered in disbelief.

"If they think he's the heir…" Philips began before trailing off. It was the first time to Harry's knowledge that anyone in Slytherin had even mentioned the rumors.

"Oh come of it, there's no way Scarhead here is the Heir of Slytherin," Malfoy said with a sneer of contempt.

"You know that, I know that, but Gryffindors think some stupid things," Pucey replied.

"Damn it all to hell!" Flint said kicking a water bucket in disgust.

"Either way we can't send Potter back out there, he'll be slaughtered before the game's over with," King ventured cautiously.

"We have to send Potter out, if he won't play then we forfeit," Pucey said although he looked less then pleased with the idea. "The only way out is injury, you lot know that."

"Call for an inquiry then!" Philips argued. "Anyone with two eyes can see that the Bludger's been tampered with."

"If we walk away now we lose," Harry answered with grim determination. "I'll play."

"Are you sure," Marcus said studying Harry closely. "I can't let King keep defending you, we'll lose the game that way too."

"I understand," Harry said with more bravery then he knew he possessed.

"Good man."

Harry might've been imagining it, but he couldn't help but think that Flint's eyes betrayed a certain amount of respect that hadn't been there before.

**("Man knows no greater fool than this: the man who would lay down one's life for a Quidditch Game." Madame Pomfrey)**

The next Harry knew he was waking up to a splitting headache.

"What happened?" he moaned to no one in particular.

"You went and split your fool head open," came the annoyed yet still matronly voice of Madame Pomfrey. "Drink this," she continued forcing a phial of foul tasting gunk down his throat.

"Best bit of flying I've ever seen though," said Blaise's cheerful voice from his side.

"Too bad you won't get a scar," Tracey put in. 'That would've been fetching, don't you think?"

"There's something seriously wrong with you," Blaise said looking at the girl in disgust.

"Did we win?" Harry asked eagerly as the potion began to take hold.

"By ten points after four hours," Tracey answered sounding almost as disgusted as Blaise had been.

"What happened to me anyways?"

"Well after you came back out you were doing quite alright actually," Tracey began.

"Then when you weren't looking one of the Weasley twins sent another Bludger after you and that was pretty much it." Blaise finished.

"I don't remember any of it," Harry said confused.

"Dad says that happens with head injuries."

It took Harry a second to remember that Tracey's father was a healer.

"I still can't believe it took Malfoy that long to catch the snitch," Blaise said with a smirk.

"Another half hour and it would've been the longest game since 1983," Tracey said with an equally scornful look.

"Flint wasn't happy, I take it?"

But before his friends could answer his question Madame Pomfrey returned to shoo them out. "We'll be keeping you overnight Mr. Potter, standard procedure with head injuries like yours."

And just like that Harry was left alone with nothing but the dull pain in his head to keep him company.

Hours and hours later, Harry woke quite suddenly in the pitch blackness and gave a small yelp of pain: His head was now throbbing. For a second, he thought that was what had woken him. Then he realized that someone was sponging his forehead in the dark.

"Get off!" he said loudly, and then, "Dobby!"

The house-elf's goggling tennis ball eyes were peering at Harry through the darkness. A single tear was running down his long, pointed nose.

"Harry Potter came back to school," he whispered miserably. "Dobby warned and warned Harry Potter. Ah sir, why didn't you heed Dobby?"

Harry heaved himself up on his pillows and pushed Dobby's sponge away. "What're you doing here?" he said.

"Dobby was so shocked when he heard Harry Potter was back at Hogwarts, he let his master's dinner burn! Such a flogging Dobby never had, sir…"

"If you don't tell me what's going on in the next ten seconds you'll have an even worse one!" Harry snapped as a lance of pain shot through his skull.

"Dobby is quite used to threats sir, he receives them regularly from his master," he said with said eyes. "If you will excuse Dobby for saying this his Master is far better at it then Harry Potter."

He blew his nose on a corner of the filthy pillowcase he wore; looking so pathetic that Harry felt his anger ebb away in spite of himself. Suddenly Dobby's head jerked back up.

"Harry Potter must go home! Dobby thought his Bludger would be enough to make —"

"Your Bludger?" said Harry, anger rising once more. "What d'you mean, your Bludger? You made that Bludger try and kill me?"

"Not kill you, sir, never kill you!" said Dobby, shocked. "Dobby wants to save Harry Potter's life! Better sent home, grievously injured, than remain here sir! Dobby only wanted Harry Potter hurt enough to be sent home!"

"Oh, is that all?" said Harry angrily. "I don't suppose you're going to tell me why you wanted me sent home in pieces?"

"Ah, if Harry Potter only knew!" Dobby groaned, more tears dripping onto his ragged pillowcase. "If he knew what he means to us, to the lowly, the enslaved, we dregs of the magical world! Dobby remembers how it was when He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was at the height of his powers, sir! We house-elves were treated like vermin, sir! Of course, Dobby is still treated like that, sir," he admitted, drying his face on the pillowcase. "But mostly, sir, life is better for my kind since you triumphed over He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Harry Potter survived, and the Dark Lord's power was broken, and it was a new dawn, sir, and Harry Potter shone like a beacon of hope for those of us who thought the Dark days would never end. And now, at

Hogwarts, terrible things are to happen, perhaps happening already, and Dobby cannot let

Harry Potter stay here now that history is to repeat itself, now that the Chamber of Secrets is open once more."

Dobby froze, horrorstruck, then grabbed Harry's water jug from his bedside table and cracked it over his own head, toppling out of sight. A second later, he crawled back onto the bed, crosseyed, muttering, "Bad Dobby, very bad Dobby…"

"So there is a Chamber of Secrets?" Harry whispered. "And did you say it's been opened before? Tell me, Dobby!"

He seized the elf's bony wrist as Dobby's hand inched toward the water jug. "But I'm not

Muggleborn, how can I be in danger from the Chamber?"

"Ah, sir, ask no more, ask no more of poor Dobby," stammered the elf, his eyes huge in the dark.

"Dark deeds are planned in this place, but Harry Potter must not be here when they happen, go home, Harry Potter, go home. Harry Potter must not meddle in this, sir, 'tis too dangerous-"

"Who is it, Dobby?" Harry said, keeping a firm hold on Dobby's wrist to stop him from hitting himself with the water jug again. "Who's opened it? Who opened it last time?"

"Dobby can't, sir, Dobby can't, Dobby mustn't tell!" squealed the elf. "Go home, Harry Potter, go home!" Dobby suddenly froze, his bat ears quivering. Harry heard it, too. There were footsteps coming down the passageway outside.

"Dobby must go!" breathed the elf, terrified. There was a loud crack, and the elf was gone. Harry slumped back into bed, his eyes on the dark doorway to the hospital wing as the footsteps drew nearer.

Next moment, Dumbledore was backing into the hospital wing wearing a long woolly dressing gown and a nightcap. He was carrying one end of what looked like a statue. Professor

McGonagall appeared a second later, carrying its feet. Together, they heaved it onto a bed.

"Get Madam Pomfrey," whispered Dumbledore, and Professor McGonagall hurried past the end of Harry's bed out of sight. Harry lay quite still, pretending to be asleep. He heard urgent voices, and then Professor McGonagall swept back into view, closely followed by Madam Pomfrey, who was pulling a cardigan on over her nightdress. He heard a sharp intake of breath.

"What happened?" Madam Pomfrey whispered to Dumbledore, bending over the statue on the bed.

"Another attack," said Dumbledore. "One of the prefects found her in a bathroom by the library."

"The poor girl was nearly hysterical we left her with Professor Flitwick," added McGonagall. "She wouldn't stop babbling about how she found her just staring into the mirror."

Slowly and cautiously Harry raised his head to look at the victim, only to recoil in shock when he recognized the mane of bushy brown hair.

"Petrified?" asked Pomfrey.

"Undoubtedly," answered Dumbledore.

"So the Chamber is really open then?" Asked McGonagall. "Who could've done such a thing, I don't think even the worst of my students are capable of it."

"The question Minerva, is not who, but how," Dumbledore finished gravely.

"What's that in her pocket?" asked Pomfrey.

Dumbledore reached in and withdrew a parchment Harry had seen once before. "It appears Miss Granger had her own theory, on the culprit," he said before passing the paper to McGonagall.

"Ludicrous!" McGonagall exclaimed once she realized what the paper was. "The boy couldn't harm a fly."

"And he's been here all night," Pomfrey put in. "I can vouch for that."

Harry quickly pretended to be sleeping as all eyes swung in his direction.

"I quite agree Mr. Potter is not the culprit," Dumbledore said reassuringly. "But do keep a closer eye on him Minerva I doubt Miss Granger was the only one to come to this conclusion and I don't want anyone taking rash action."

It was no secret among Gryffindors that Hermione had been researching Harry's history, and before long the whole school knew. Added onto the Bludger incident which everyone was sure the Gryffindors were behind the common theory was that Hermione's attack had been both for revenge and to cover his tracks.

Everywhere Harry went he attracted knowing looks and more than a little fear. That is except in Slytherin, where he being the Heir was considered to be the greatest joke in recent memory. Harry after all was hardly a dark wizard and those who came into daily contact with him found the whole idea ridiculous. Malfoy if anything seemed almost offended that anyone could think Harry was behind the attacks.

"He just wants people to think he's the one doing all of it," Blaise said with a shrug. "I know he'd like to if he ever got the chance."

"No one's stupid enough to think Malfoy's the heir, I mean he spends more time in the mirror each morning then I do!" Tracey exclaimed.

"My German Shepherd spends more time in front of the mirror then you do," Blaise said before Tracey punched him in his arm.

**("The most infuriating part of being a scoundrel is no one believes you on the rare occasion when you really are innocent,"- Professor Phineas Nigellus Black)**

_Dear Harry,_

_I confess to be horrified by the turn of events you detailed to me in your last letter. I was there the last time the Chamber was opened. Poor Myrtle deserved so much more from life then to be killed in that manner. And I confess I've always had my doubts about the man they eventually charged with the crime. If that was the Heir of Slytherin I'd eat my loafer. _

_But enough of this, whatever happened fifty years ago is now ancient history, it could hardly be the same culprit. Let us merely hope that things progress no further, last time they were on the verge of closing the school if you can believe it. Over 1,000 years of history and tradition ended on the account of one madman, the whole affair still leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. There is another facet of your letter I can't help but take notice of. These clearly ridiculous rumors that you had something to do with the attacks. _

_I can already see from the tone of your letter that the opinions of those foolish schoolchildren have only poisoned your mind more completely against fame. That my dear boy is understandable, but I hope you'll forgive me for saying that it is also foolish. At this point in your life fame is not something which you can simply choose to walk away from. You will always be famous, and there will always be scandalous rumors about you. _

_I know, for one so young this, must be a terrifying concept it is however the truth. The sooner you come to embrace your fame the sooner you can began to manage these attacks. People fear the unknown Harry, and that is what you are, unknown. Your politics, your personality, even your history is a complete mystery to many of your fellow students. Remove the mystery and the next time you find yourself at the wrong end of a terrible rumor you will find substantially less people believe it. _

_Your Friend, _

_H. Slughorn. _

**("My wand is a little… overexcited,"- Professor Gilderoy Lockhart)**

"Now, Harry," said Lockhart. "When Draco points his wand at you, you do this."

He raised his own wand, attempted a complicated sort of wiggling action, and dropped it. Snape smirked as Lockhart quickly picked it up, saying, "Whoops, my wand is a little overexcited…"

Snape moved closer to Malfoy, bent down, and whispered something in his ear. Malfoy smirked, too. Harry looked up nervously at Lockhart and said, "Professor, could you show me that blocking thing again?"

"Scared?" muttered Malfoy, so that Lockhart couldn't hear him.

"You wish," said Harry out of the corner of his mouth.

Lockhart cuffed Harry merrily on the shoulder. "Just do what I did, Harry!"

"What, drop my wand?"

Harry couldn't help but wonder how exactly he had gotten himself in this situation. He hadn't even wanted to join the dueling club, after all anyone who wasn't terrified of him was out for his blood instead. But Tracey had somehow talked him into it, and although he had planned to just remain in the back Lockhart had immediately grabbed hold of him and put him on the stage.

"Three — two — one — go!" Lockhart shouted.

"_Flipendo!_" Harry cried out vainly hoping that the knockback jinx would distract Malfoy long enough for harry to punch him or something.

"Now Harry, you're supposed to be blocking," Lockhart interrupted. "It's poor sport to-,"

But no one least of all Malfoy was listening to him.

"_Serpensortia_!" Malfoy yelled as a giant black snake shot out of his wand.

The whole world seemed to stop as the snake rose from the floor hissing in anger. It stopped and focused its eyes right at Harry.

"Hold on Potter," Snape said airly, "I'll get rid of it."

"Allow me!" Lockhart interrupted cheerfully, before anyone could stop him he waved his wand and with a bang the snake was propelled into the air. Enraged the snake hissed fiercely and the crowd began to stampede away which of course did nothing to calm the snake.

Enraged the snake sought out the first available person to strike out at, Colin Creevy. The snake reared up, its fangs jutting out poised to strike.

Harry would never know what caused him to act, but act he did. Striding forward as if he hadn't a fear in the world he yelled "stop!"

Miraculously the snake did turning to look at Harry curiously.

"Don't attack any of the students," Harry said, this time slightly less sure of himself.

The snake bobbed its head as if it understood him and then bent it slightly to the side as if to observe him.

Harry looked to Colin expecting to see relief on his face, but instead there was only a pale white look to it, and the boy refused to meet his eye.

` Snape stepped forward, waved his wand, and the snake vanished in a small puff of black smoke. The look in the Professor's eyes was shrewd and calculating, it was a look harry had never seen directed at him before. It was then that he became aware of the ominous mutterings that were filling the Great Hall.

Suddenly Harry became aware of a tugging on his arm and before he knew it Blaise was leading him away with Tracey not far behind. To Harry's surprise the crowded hall seemed to part before him, almost as if everyone was to afraid to stop them.

His bodyguard however didn't say a word or for that matter stop walking until they were well away from the Great Hall and hidden away in an abandoned classroom.

"What the hell was that Harry!?" Blaise snapped the second the door was closed.

"What was what?" Harry asked in confusion.

"You're a parselmouth you idiot!" Tracey answered.

"I know," said Harry. "I mean, that's only the second time I've ever done it."

"The second time?" Blaise asked faintly.

"Well I met a rather nice Boa Constrictor once, and it told me it had never seen Brazil and before I knew it… Well it was free, whether or not it ever made it to Brazil I couldn't say."

"A Boa Constrictor told you it had never seen Brazil?" Blaise repeated shell shocked.

"What's the big deal anyways?" Harry asked. "I mean Dumbledore can speak mermish can't he? I know being a parselmouth is rare, but it can't be as rare as all that."

"That's just it Harry, it is as rare as all that," Tracey said quietly. "There's only ever been one parselmouth in Britain, Salazar Slytherin."

"There was another one," Blaise said his voice still distant. "I heard once at one of my mum's parties that You-Know-Who was one."

"Oh well that's a relief," Tracey muttered sarcastically.

When the three Slytherins did eventually return to the Common Room, only silence greeted them. The younger years and indeed the majority of the older students only stared at Harry. Some were curios, some fearful, and more then a few were clearly star-struck. All the same none of them dared approach Harry or his friends.

Indeed when Harry entered the Dormitories even Malfoy retained a respectful distance. The nod he gave Harry wasn't friendly, but it was somehow…. Different…

**("There's only ever been one parselmouth in Britain, Salazar Slytherin…"- Tracey Davis)**

Harry awoke at some point in the night and he instantly knew something was wrong. There was hand on his shoulder and it was attached to someone far too big to be one of his roommates. He very nearly screamed, but he stopped when he recognized the bone white mask of the Order of the Serpent.

The figure whoever it was, put a finger over its mouth and gestured towards Harry's roommates.

Understanding that the figure wanted him to be quiet, Harry nodded.

Without saying anything the figure turned around and headed out the door, Harry in hot pursuit. They walked down the stairs of the Boy's Dormitories and through the common room. It must have been late in the night as there was no one there. To Harry's surprise the figure lead him out through the portrait hole and into the main part of the Dungeons.

"Where are we going?" Harry asked growing slightly worried.

"Not here." Was the only response the figure gave, his voice was masked somehow and sounded otherworldly.

Up they traveled soon they were out of the Dungeons and into Hogwarts proper. If the figure was fearful of wondering teachers he gave no sign of it, although they did skirt the Grand Staircase and instead used a less conspicuous one. They continued up until they reached the fifth Floor at which point the figure lead him to a portrait of a wood cutter who did nothing to acknowledge their existence.

"Brother Merlin," the figure said apparently addressing the portrait.

"What is the best cloak?" The Portrait asked as it chopped another log.

"Innocence my brother," the figure answered.

"You are worthy."

And with that the Portrait swung open. Harry followed the figure inside. The room on the other side of the portrait hole was large and dark. So dark in fact that it took Harry a second to make out the five figures waiting for them at the end of the room. The one which lead him to the chamber joined those other five and they formed a semicircle around Harry.

"What's going on?" Harry asked, questioning just what impulse had led him to follow a strange figure through the halls of Hogwarts while a homicidal manic was on the loose.

"We are the Fraternal Order of the Serpent," said the otherworldly voice of the figure who had led him there. "Nearly a millennia ago Salazar Slytherin himself charged us with defending his noble house from those who would seek to destroy it."

"That is the tale we tell the firsties," came a different voice which was also distorted by the mask. "But there is more to it than that."

"For as he trusted us with his House so did he trust us with his blood," Said yet another voice.

"We serve as the guides and guards of all true Heirs," came a different voice.

"There are those among us who say you are an Heir, and they would've have us pledge our allegiance so."

"But we have seen many usurpers, and so you must first proof yourself to us," finished the last.

"How?" Harry asked. Part of him was terrified by all of this, but no Slytherin ever ran from power and these figures certainly promised him power. Added onto that they might know something of the heir who was behind the attacks.

"We do not share our secrets with outsiders," came the voice of the one who led him here. "If you want to continue you must first take your oath as a Fellow of Our Order."

"Of course," Harry answered.

"On your belly."

After a second of hesitation Harry followed the instructions and knelt down before laying flat on his stomach.

"You come to us now seeking our fellowship?" A Voice asked once Harry had followed the instructions.

"I do," Harry answered unsure of himself.

"The virtues of Slytherin House are Cunning, Ambition, and Resourcefulness. A true Slytherin will go to any means to achieve his ends. A true Slytherin thinks nothing of lying, cheating, or stealing if it serves his purpose, this is as it should be," said a voice to Harry's left.

"But what does it say of a man who would lie to his friends, cheat his servants, and steal from his brothers?" came a voice from Harry's right.

"There must be honor among us, even if we show none to our foes," said the one who had lead Harry to this chamber, he was the one directly in front of Harry. "Do you pledge to never lie to a Brother?"

"I swear it," Harry answered still on his belly.

"Do you pledge never to cheat a Brother?"

"I swear it."

"Do you pledge never to steal from a Brother?"

"I swear it."

"Very well, you are a man of honor, and none among us doubt it."

"But honor is not enough," said the voice to Harry's left. "For if nothing unites our brotherhood, then so must everything divide it."

"There is a mission and a purpose," came the voice from Harry's right. "It is what binds us what unites us under a common goal."

"Our mission is threefold," came the voice of Harry's guide. "Do you Harry Potter, swear upon your honor to at all times embody good Slytherin values and to at all time stand ready to defend Slytherin House?"

"Upon my Honor I swear it," Harry answered still on his belly.

"Do you swear upon your honor to guide and protect all Slytherins, especially those who have just entered the fold, so that they may one day take your place as a guardian of our values?"

"Upon my Honor I swear it."

"Do you swear to seek out and protect all true Heirs of Slytherin? For as Salazar gave us his all, we are called upon to give our all to his true descendants. Do you swear this?"

"Upon my Honor I swear it."

` "Rise to your knees, for you have satisfied us," the voice concluded.

And with that two of the Brotherhood came from Harry's left and right and dragged him from his belly to his knees. Next they draped a dark cloak, identical to the ones they wore, over him.

Then his guide spoke again.

"We have found you worthy, but our master was cautious one and so there is one final pledge."

At that one of the Order brought out a highly decorated wooden case, from which Harry's guide pulled out an ornate and ancient looking walking stick.

"This is the Cane of Salazar Slytherin," Said Harry's guide as he held the cane towards Harry. "It supported his body as our brotherhood supports his ideals. It was enchanted by the first Heir which we guided, Alfred Peverall, son of Salazar. Any pledge spoken while holding this Cane has all the weight and force of an Unbreakable Vow…. Take it now and swear our final pledge."

His hands shaking Harry reached out and took the cane. Instantly he felt as if a powerful wave had washed over him, and he knew that his guide had made no idle boast.

"Do you Harry Potter, swear to at all times uphold the secrecy of this order? Do you swear never to take from this place those sacred items which we have guarded through the centuries? Do you swear upon your life and magic never to speak what the greatest of the four would keep unspoken? Do you swear upon your life and magic to ensure that others do not do the same?"

"I swear upon my life and my magic," Harry felt yet another wave of power wash over him and he knew he was bound to his word.

"Rise Brother," the guide said.

Before Harry could stand on his own two of the brotherhood advanced grabbed him under the armpits and hauled him to his feet. Before he quite had a chance to steady himself the one on his right slipped a mask onto his face. To any observer he was now identical to all the others of the order… well he was quite a bit shorter, but other than that.

"You are now one of us," said Harry's guide. "But to be proven the Heir there is another test."

"Hold on-," Harry began only to be cut off.

"No." Harry's guide responded simply. "We have accepted you into our fold because you might be the Heir. If you fail to pass this test we will throw you from our presence as if this night never happened. So it's best if we don't tell you more than necessary. Come this way."

The order formed up on either side of Harry and with a unified murmur of "Lumos," Their wands lit the way as the group marched from one side of the chamber to an imposing double door on the other end. The door was joined at the center by a locking mechanism in the shape of a King Cobra.

"Behind this door lays your final test, first however, you must open it."

Harry for his part nervously approached. The doors which showed no sign of budging.

"Here goes nothing," Harry murmured to himself. He reached up grasping the handles with both hands and pulled with all his might….

The door did not budge.

He tried again this time straining with the effort. Distantly he heard one of the order cough nervously.

"_Speak you idiot_," a voice hissed.

Harry jumped in surprise.

"Something the matter Potter?" One of the brotherhood called mockingly.

"_Speak your name to me if you're an heir,_" with a start Harry realized that it was the Cobra lock that was speaking to him. "_If you're not going to speak I'm going back to sleep… bloody mortals interrupting my nap over nothing_."

"I'm Harry Potter?" Harry said unsure of himself.

"_Not in that language you fool_!" the lock hissed.

"Yes, yes we're quite aware of that," another one of the brotherhood called out.

"Perhaps we should end this," Started the one who had brought Harry to this place.

But Harry had suddenly realized what was required of him. 'Think snake,' Harry thought to himself.

"_I am Harry Potter_!" He heard the gasps of surprise from the order but he did not register them.

"_Finally_!" The lock hissed as Harry heard a faint click from the door.

Harry reached out and flung the doors open. He couldn't help but feel a Cheshire cat grin sporead across his face as he heard the gasps of the order.

"What now?" He said confidently turning back to his guide.

"The door is merely the first part of this test." If Harry's feats surprised the man behind the mask he gave no indication of it. "Go into the chambers and return with the Ring of Slytherin. If you do this we will know you as the Heir… and our Lord."

"You're not coming with me?" Harry asked as he stared into the blackness of the chamber.

"It's not our place." Harry's guide responded simply.

\

WHAM!

Before Harry had time to react the door slammed firmly closed behind him.

"Shit!" he exclaimed as he whirled around and tried to tug the door open, but it of course refused to budge.

"How interesting," came a hoarse voice from the corner of the room.

Harry felt his heart stop in fright as he turned only to find that the voice had come from a portrait of a wizened warlock, who had the look of a greying monkey. The eyes were however what shocked Harry for they were a shade of green he had only ever seen in the mirror.

"Tell me my young wizard, do you know who I am?"

"No, sir," Harry replied unsure of himself.

"Simply dreadful," the old warlock said shaking his head. "If you really must be told I am Alfred Peverell, Son of Salazar of Slytherin and First Headmaster of Hogwarts."

"You're the one they were talking about earlier!" Harry said remembering the name from the ceremony.

"That's correct; you could say that I founded the Order during my time at Hogwarts."

"Why?" Harry asked out of curiosity.

"When I first came to this school I was nothing more then a frightened child, in truth I had only the faintest inkling of my parentage."

"How could you not know your father was Salazar Slytherin?" asked Harry.

"If you would but let me finish my story you might find out!" The portrait said giving Harry a dirty look.

"After Salazar left Hogwarts my mother's husband Uthred Peverell, who was a King in his own right, granted him the post of Court Wizard. At some point he began an affair with my mother, and thus I was born. Salazar's betrayal was discovered not long after my birth, and he was executed for it, so in truth I never met the man."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Harry said, and in truth he was. Harry after all knew quote a lot about losing a parent.

"There is nothing to be sorry for," Alfred said with a shrug. "How can a man miss that which he has not had?"

Harry had no good answer for that and so he remained silent.

"In any case when I came to Hogwarts I found that the rumors of my parentage had already preceded me. So I used it to my advantage, at first I only intended to protect myself from bullying, but soon people began to look to me as a leader. That was when the founders took notice."

"They wouldn't have let you become to powerful, would they? Not after what your father did," said Harry.

"Quite," the portrait replied. "My father leaving as he did nearly split the school in two, the founders were of course weary that I might try and lead some sort of riot to get rid of muggleborns."

"So what did you do?" Harry asked.

"Simple, I switched sides. I made a deal with the founders I would warn them of any plot to harm muggleborns and in exchange they would give me a free hand in how I dealt with my fellow Slytherins."

"They agreed to that!" Harry said in disbelieve.

"Agreed to it?" the portrait said with a chuckle. "They loved the idea. You see even though they hadn't parted on the best of terms the founders still dearly missed my father and here I was his spitting image, not just in looks either I thought like him too. They Gryffindor chief among them regarded me as a sort of nephew, they trusted me above all others."

"But didn't you want the muggleborns gone?" Harry asked, "I mean you are the son of Slytherin."

"I care very little what happens to muggleborns one way or another," the portrait said with a shrug. "That was my father's cause not mine."

"Then what did you care about?"

"Power," Alfred said simply. "I care very little for right or wrong, one man's hero is another man's villain, the only way to make sure you will be remembered properly is to write the history books."

"That's a little pragmatic," Harry answered with a quirked eyebrow.

"Perhaps, but it is a maxim that has served me well. In any case with the founders blessing I formed my own Order of the Serpent, I invited only my most trusted followers. There were six of them and I was the seventh one. For seven is a very powerful magical number, and wizards are creatures of symbolism."

"Is that why I had to go through that ceremony out there?" Harry said recalling the odd and ritualistic initiation rite.

"As I said wizards put great stock in symbolism. So I created the ceremonies of the order to overawe my followers. I claimed even in those days that the rituals and rites I passed to them were ones I had inherited from my father, and that only increased the esteem in which they held me," Alfred said with pride in his voice.

"I used this order I had created to rule Slytherin House and to a great extent the rest of the school. Once I graduated I permitted the Order to continue as it was after all a good way for me to keep tabs on the goings on of Hogwarts. Even as a young man I always intended to take this school as my own… it was after all my birthright."

"When Godric eventually died I was the natural choice to succeed him and so I became the first headmaster. The Order which only ever numbered six was still loyal to me and so I used them to keep tabs on the student body. And when I died I bequeathed unto them this portrait so that I would be able to guide them and my heirs through the centuries. Does that all make sense to you?"

"And what about the Chamber of Secrets?" Harry said finally asked the question which had sent him on this mad hunt.

"I was wondering when you would ask me that," the portrait said with a small smile. "I shall tell you the same thing I told your predecessor, I never sought out the chamber. Why would I? Violence was never my way, and as it turned out I conquered Hogwarts without spilling a drop of blood… even unpure blood."

"But you must know who's behind the attacks!" Harry pressed.

"I imagine it's the same person as last time, Tom Riddle," the Portrait answered.

Harry was momentarily too shocked to respond. Despite asking the question he couldn't believe he had gotten a straight answer.

"Why haven't you told Dumbledore!?" Harry demanded. "If you're a former headmaster you'd have a portrait in his office."

Alfred threw his head back and laughed a very cold laugh. "Betray my own kin for the sake of a few mudbloods? I think not?"

"People could die!" Harry said in shock.

"That is always a risk," Alfred responded blithely. "I care very little about what happens to muggleborns one way or the other. But you're a fool if you think I'll have any part in seeing my heir carted off to Azkaban."

"If you won't tell Dumbledore then I will!" Harry responded fiercely.

The portrait seemed to find that very amusing. "You cannot tell Dumbledore. Do you not remember what happened not 10 minutes ago? When I became headmaster I gifted my father's old walking stick to the order but before I did I enchanted it…"

Harry suddenly felt the color drain from his face as he remembered the words of the pledge:

"_Do you swear upon your life and magic never to speak what the greatest of the four would keep unspoken?"_

"Ah now you remember," the portrait said with a smug grin. "If you were to go to Dumbledore and attempt to tell him what I told you, you would find that your mouth would refuse to move and your hands would refuse to write. That is what it means to swear an unbreakable vow."

"I will stop him!" Harry said fiercely. "I will close the Chamber!"

The portrait seemed to find that very funny.

**A/N **So the book which was only meant to be one chapter becomes three. I'm not too proud of that, but all things considered its coming along beautifully if a bit slowly.

As for the long delay my excuse is actually a lot more reasonable this time, in a desperate attempt to pay the bills I got a second job that effectively left me with about three hours of sleep a night. Under those conditions I doubt anyone would have much motivation to write.

Luckily my finances have more or less stabilized and I was able to tell my employers at Sprint where they could shove their IPhone. Hopefully I will have more time to write, but at this point we all know how much my promises are worth.

I will say this every review helps to motivate me to write quicker. I'm not the type to withhold chapters or anything but I think every writer knows exactly how motivational praise can be. And of course constructive criticism is an even better motivator.

One last thank you to Snakefang93 for his help and please don't forget to review.


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